Marry Me
by ClosetObsession
Summary: "Marry me," he said with a tired sigh. "You always have to ruin it, don't you?" she pondered, staring at the paneled and peeling ceiling. "What do you remember about that night?" he asked. "...Sloppy kisses and hands that couldn't stay still." "Mine or yours?"
1. Chapter 1

**Just a little fun something I've been playing with for a little while now. I hope you all enjoy! FYI: rated M for a reason. Thanks.**

* * *

 _Fingers laced together. Tongues slid easily and hungrily into mouths, over skin. Teeth pinched small bites of flesh causing red blemishes. Breaths were mingled and exhaled in short pants and lengthy moans. Words - mostly of the four-letter and crude variety - slipped off tongues that continued to taste as hands moved to hips and chests. And finally, release was met with a ferocious intensity._

Owen woke to the sound of a sudden gasp followed immediately by a hiss of pain. The surface he was laying on shifted quickly then stilled.

" _Shit!_ " The whispered curse roused him further.

He opened one bleary eye and immediately regretted it as the sunlight, though partially hidden by a flimsy curtain, burned his retina and sent a stabbing pain through his head. He groaned quietly and rolled over to hide from the light. The bed shifted again beneath him and the sound of footsteps, echoing thumps on the hollow floor of his trailer, met his ears.

"Where did you put my bra?" the woman in the room with him whispered angrily.

"I honestly don't remember," he mumbled into a pillow.

His brain conjured up the image of a woman in a dark blue dress. It was professional, but mind-numbingly tight across her back side and hips. The pale skin of her legs ended in tall, beige colored heels. A flash of short red hair whipping around in annoyance. The mental picture matched the voice he was hearing.

His eyes shot open; he ignored the burning pain in his head. Claire Dearing. Slowly, he rolled back over and watched her rummage around his bedroom in her underwear and heels.

"Forget it," she muttered before quickly pulling her dress over her head and down her bare chest. "If you find it, let me know. Actually, don't. Just toss it," she said, zipping up the back of the dress.

He ran a hand over his face as the memories of the night before slowly trickled back into his consciousness. "Oh, man. I think I understand now why you don't like tequila."

She was running her fingers through her tangled hair. It was curly when not styled. It wasn't what he expected. Not that he ever thought he'd see her like this. Well, maybe once. Years ago when they'd first met, he'd had the distance hope of something like this happening.

"Okay," she sighed softly, standing up straighter.

He shifted and raised himself into a seated position, having to adjust the blanket to remain somewhat modest in front of her now.

"I think we can both agree that this, while nice, was-"

" _Nice?_ " he croaked. His throat was dry and scratchy. She was going with _nice?_

"-Was a mistake and shouldn't happen again."

Claire Dearing was giving him the one night stand blow off? He smiled lazily, thinking this was something he could add and immediately check off his bucket list.

"Why are you smiling?" she asked him. She hid her irritation well.

"I think it's funny that you're standing there acting like we didn't just wake up naked together," he replied with a chuckle. "Also, that _you_ , of all people, are giving me this speech right now."

She rolled her eyes. "Always the charmer, aren't you, Mr. Grady?" she said dryly.

He saw pink tinge her cheeks as she quickly turned around to leave. It made his smile grow.

"I trust you can keep this to yourself?" she called just before slamming the door to his trailer shut behind her. The loud sound made him wince.

...

Two months after Claire left him hung over and naked in his trailer, she showed up at the raptor paddock with Simon Misrani.

"Mr. Grady, thank you for letting us come by," Misrani said as he shook his hand firmly.

Their visit was unexpected but he didn't want that to show. Owen had a nasty habit of never checking his work email. It annoyed Barry to no end and Owen had a suspicion that his partner probably knew damn well about this visit and neglected to tell him as punishment for not reading the memos sent to them.

"It's your island, sir," Owen replied with an easy smile. "You're welcome to stop by whenever you'd like."

"Have you met Miss Dearing, yet?" Misrani asked, motioning to Claire standing next to him. "The Operations Manager."

"We've met," Owen said with a sly smile.

Claire gave him a plain look, not amused. "Mr. Grady has run some requests by me in the past," she explained to her boss. "Usually about increasing their food budget."

Owen shrugged. "We go through a lot of pigs and rats here. I'd like to get some chickens for them too. A deer, maybe."

"And what would that do?" Misrani asked curiously.

"It'd be a new challenge for them and I worry they'll get bored with the pigs. They're intelligent animals. Smarter than anything else that lab has brewed up," he said proudly but also with a hint of disgust. He had no illusions about InGen's creations. They were for profit, not science. "If they aren't properly stimulated then they'll start to lash out which would make working with them even more dangerous."

Misrani nodded, impressed. "That makes sense," he turned to Claire, "and seems like a reasonable request."

She smiled tightly. "Yes, of course. However, as the raptors are not an attraction of the theme park, they don't generate any income. It's difficult to work out those requests within the budget." Her steel blue eyes glided over to Owen. "I'm sure you can understand that," she said smoothly.

He smirked and nodded curtly. "We can manage for now. But if their minds' become too idle, they'll start looking for escape routes out of the paddock to go on a real hunt. And I'm sure no one wants that."

"No," Misrani agreed. "We want them to be happy, don't we Claire? Why don't we talk to our friends in accounting and see what money we can move around?"

"Of course, sir," she replied airily. She lifted the phone that Owen knew was always held at her side and made a note.

"So, can we see them?" Misrani asked with a hushed excitement.

He smirked. "Sure. They're in their pens right now so you came at a good time."

He led them to the secondary gate of the paddock and entered the code for the door to slide to the side.

"Two gates," Misrani observed. "A security redundancy."

Owen nodded. "It's not possible to open the primary gate if the secondary isn't completely shut and vice versa. In theory, there's no way for them to get out of this paddock without someone _intentionally_ letting them out."

"But you're still worried the assets will get bored enough and start hatching an escape plan?" Claire questioned with an incredulous chuckle.

"Like I said, they're the smartest animals on the island. I don't want to give them the chance to figure something out. That's sort of my job," he said, a slight bite to his words.

She looked like she was prepared with a smart remark, but before she could respond, low, echoing hisses sounded from behind her. She and Misrani jumped at the sound and moved quickly away from it. Owen smirked again and walked towards the raptors, in line and heads locked in their pens.

"Christ," Misrani muttered. "I didn't even realize they were there."

"And if they'd been free, they would have stayed that quiet until they were ready to attack you," Owen explained. "They're secure here. You can get closer."

Claire stayed firmly in place, seven or eight feet away. Misrani, a bit braver, maybe, took cautious steps forward.

"What's the purpose of these locks?" he asked. "What does this allow for?"

"After they hunt we lock them in these for a visual inspection. There's someone on the other side of this wall," Owen pressed his hand against the cool steel, "walking around them behind another gate and making sure there aren't any obvious signs of injury."

"May I...?" Misrani asked, hesitating as he lifted his hand towards one of the raptors.

"Absolutely," Owen agreed. "You'll feel her tense up but she can't get to you when she's like this."

Misrani let his palm rest on the dinosaur's snout between the bars of the face mask. "Wow," he said in awe.

"This is Charlie," Owen introduced.

"Claire," Misrani called, "get over here and feel this."

"I'm fine here," she answered.

"Come on, Miss Dearing," Owen taunted. "You can meet Echo. She's the nicest of the group - the most likely to hesitate before killing you."

"Claire, it truly is amazing," Misrani said. He lifted another hand to the raptor's head and began massaging the scaly scalp.

"I really don't think it's necessary."

Owen was impressed with how she kept her cool. She didn't appear afraid, more so indifferent - or as if the whole thing were beneath her. Was she bored? he wondered.

"Just once," Owen told her. "It doesn't have to happen again. It doesn't have to mean anything. I could send someone out for some tequila of you need a little liquid courage," he teased.

She narrowed her eyes at his not so subtle play off their one night stand together.

"I don't drink," she said coldly.

"No?" he asked with a knowing smile. "That's good. Drinking can lead to some unfortunate choices."

"Yes, it can," she agreed.

"Claire, I insist," Misrani said, still enraptured by the creature in front of him. "This is truly a spectacular experience."

"That's good," Owen said, nodding at Charlie as Claire took slow steps forward. "She likes that."

The raptor had her eyes closed in satisfaction as Misrani's fingers lightly scratched at her snout.

Claire was by his side now and he smiled softly, hopefully reassuring her in case she was scared.

"Echo likes it a little softer," Owen said. He ran two fingers between Echo's eyes and up to the top of her head. She let out a long sigh.

Claire raised her hand and copied Owen's actions. Echo huffed suddenly at the new smell of someone nearby.

"It's the vanilla," Owen explained when Claire started at the sound.

"What?" she asked.

"You smell like vanilla," he said quietly. "It must be a soap or lotion you use."

"Lotion," she muttered, eyeing him carefully.

"She can smell it," he explained with a glance at Echo. "And I've smelled it before." One side of his mouth lifted up playfully and he gave her a reckless wink.

Her jawline twitched and she diverted her stare to the raptor. She lifted her hand again to pet the space between the dinosaur's eyes.

...

The afternoon after Claire and Misrani surprised him at the paddock, she surprised him at his door.

"You're an ass," she said as she walked in to his trailer uninvited.

"Thanks?" he said, closing the door and watching her walk into his bedroom.

"Did you ever find my bra?" she asked. She lifted the blanket off the side of his bed and bent over the peek under the frame.

"Yeah," he said, following her into the room. He leaned against the door frame and watched her carefully, wary of her intentions.

"Do you have it?" she asked, quickly standing upright and looking at him expectantly.

"Why?" he asked slowly.

She smiled patiently and took a step towards him. "I need it."

"You suddenly need the bra you left here two months ago?" he asked doubtfully.

"I still have the underwear that matches it," she explained. "I wanted to wear it tonight on my date."

He smiled and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. "You want to wear the same underwear I took off of you on a date with another guy?"

"Well," she said, a smirk of her own flitting across her face, "they worked out so well the last time."

He bit his cheek. "Yes they did," he said. "Fair point. But I don't have it anymore. You told me to toss it, remember?"

"I do, but I was hoping you might have some sick one night stand trophy box or something," she said with a dejected sigh.

"Sorry." He shrugged. "Not that much of a creep, I guess."

"Well, you can't blame me for trying," she said, starting forward and edging past him in the doorway. "I guess I'll just have to go braless tonight."

Owen laughed quietly at her comment, knowing she was trying to get a rise out of him. He followed her back to the door.

"You don't have to go so soon, you know," he called, invitingly, to her. "If you've got an itch you can't scratch, you know I'm here for you."

She was outside, halfway to her car when she responded. "Unfortunately for you, Mr. Grady, I'm perfectly capable of scratching that itch myself."

The mental image of Claire Dearing fingering herself on his bed, head thrown back in ecstasy, legs clenching around the hand between them got him halfway hard.

"Yeah, maybe," he said, standing on his porch with his hands in his pockets, trying to keep them from tenting over his growing erection. "But fantasy isn't always better than the real thing."

At her car door she turned back and smiled coyly. "Sorry to disappoint, but my fantasies wouldn't be about you anyway."

She opened the door and quickly slid inside her Mercedes, starting the engine.

"Keep telling yourself that!" he yelled, though he was fairly certain she wouldn't be able to hear him.

She drove off and Owen headed back inside, suddenly feeling like a cold shower would do him some good.

...

"What do you remember about that night?" he asked as he ambushed her at the bar of the ballroom they were in for the Christmas Eve party.

"Mr. Grady," Claire greeted with a tired kindness, ignoring his question.

"Did you get my present?" he asked with a smirk. He'd sent a bottle of tequila to her office that morning with an obnoxiously large red ribbon.

She glanced back at him, tight lipped. "I did. Very funny."

"I thought you might get a kick out of it," he said casually as he raised his empty beer bottle to the bartender, asking for another. "You didn't answer my question."

She gave him a leveled, almost impassive look. "Hardly anything. It was six months ago, after all."

"See? Now, don't you find that annoying?" he asked in a hushed voice. "We had sex and we can't even remember if it was worth repeating or not."

She rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. "I don't think I need a repeat."

Owen nodded slowly and leaned his weight against the top of the bar. "So, that date you went on a few of months back...that went alright for you?"

She hesitated and cocked her head to the side. "That really isn't any of your business," she replied.

He smiled a wolffish grin. "That bad, huh?" He straightened upright again. "Worse than our date?"

"No," she scoffed. "I've never had another date that bad."

"Glad to know I've left an impression," he said lightly. "Unfortunately, I _have_ had worse."

Claire looked momentarily offended. "It wasn't _me_ that was the problem on our date."

"You brought an _itinerary!_ " he argued, still smiling. He'd learned anytime he got the chance to tease or annoy Claire to make the most of it.

"I like to be organized. You're the one that wore _board shorts,_ " she said snidely.

"Yeah, well, now I know that you prefer to undress me when I'm in a suit," he said with an easy smile.

"I don't know that I was the one that took your clothes off," she said slowly. He happily noticed her tone and expression were now playful.

"That's the problem!" he insisted. "I don't know either. Seriously, do you remember anything that happened?"

He could tell she was stifling a smile as she turned to him and stepped marginally closer. She was still using that vanilla body lotion, he noticed.

"Let's see," she began. She raised a hand and placed it on the lapel of his jacket, probably smoothing out a wrinkle only she could and would ever see. "We were at Masrani Global's fundraiser for wildlife conservation. You handed me a drink which tasted awful."

"Yeah, yeah," he brushed off. "I remember all that. Get to the good part."

She sighed. "All I really remember is sloppy kisses and hands that couldn't stay still," she said quietly in this sultry way that had him picturing what she was wearing under her green dress.

"Mine or yours?" he quipped with a sly grin.

She smiled, biting her lip, and glanced around the room. "It's hard to say."

"What gets me is that, if I try really hard, I can almost hear your breaths in my ear," he said, lowering his voice. He raised his hand to lazily gestured towards his ear. The corners of his lips upturned slightly. "But for the life of me, I can't remember what it feels like to be inside of you."

He was watching her intently, so he saw when her pupils dilated in response to his words. Her eyes scanned over the people around them; Owen had blocked them out. She leaned in closer to him.

"It is a shame. And while I don't remember much about your tongue, you left a nice bite mark on my inner thigh."

"And I had your scratches across my back for a week," he countered.

"Clearly it was very passionate," she said.

"Makes you wonder what it'd be like sober."

"Would you even know what to do with me if you didn't have some of that liquid courage you love so much?"

"You strike me as the kind of woman who likes to tell a guy exactly what she expects," he said. "So go ahead. Tell me."

She smirked again. "I may not be afraid to say what I want, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't rather have a man who didn't need me to tell him."

"Alright, then, come by my place later and let me see what I can do," he offered. The side of his mouth lifting in a cautious smile.

"Sober?" she asked almost mockingly.

"I'll stop drinking now," he said. He pushed his beer bottle away from him.

She stared him down with a smirk and a laugh bubbling up in her throat. "Have a drink, Mr. Grady. Enjoy yourself," she said. She leaned closer and dropped her volume to a whisper that made him lean down to hear. "Because whether we remember it or not, that was the last time you'll get to fuck me into your bed."

She took a step back and smiled politely. "Have a nice evening."

She walked away, leaving him stranded by the bar as he thought of her legs wrapped around him and her hands clawing at his back as he drove himself harder and faster into her on top his mattress. He didn't know if it was a memory or fantasy, but either way it was a fun thought.

He didn't drink for the rest of the night, hoping that by some miracle she might show up at his door later. But he had no such luck and he fell asleep alone.

* * *

 **Please review with your thoughts! Thanks again!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for the reviews from the last chapter. I'm happy to see some familiar names from my last Clawen story!**

* * *

He hadn't planned it. Really. It was sheer luck that got him in possession of her phone number. He just happened to be in the right place at the right time. The right place being on one of the dirt roads close to the raptor paddock that had flooded from a recent storm. The right time being when Claire's assistant, Zara, happened to get a vehicle stuck in the mud on that road with a dead cell phone battery.

Of course, being the chivalrous and caring man that he was, when he found the woman stranded, he offered to call the Operations Manager to update her of her assistant's whereabouts and request island maintenance break out the tow truck to come to the small SUV's aid. Zara had, thankfully, memorized her boss's cell number and was able to readily rattle it off to Owen as he dialed.

She had been less than pleased to hear the news of Zara's mishap. Or perhaps she just wasn't happy that _Owen_ had been the one to tell her. Either way, he didn't much care. It was hard to hide the happy grin on his face as he mentally planned all the ways he could now use having her number.

"She's calling for the tow," he told Zara as he placed his cell back in his vest pocket. They were leaning up against the Jeep Owen drove around after storms like the one they just had, knowing his bike wouldn't handle so much mud on the unpaved roads.

"Are you friends with her?" Zara asked curiously, eyeing his now constant smug smile.

"No," he laughed. "I'm pretty sure she hates me." His smile turned a bit sheepish as he regarded her. "But I like messing with her."

"Like a little boy on the playground pulling her pigtails," Zara teased. "It's refreshing to see, actually. Most men are too afraid to even talk to her most times."

"I'm not most men," he replied proudly. "Most men don't train man-eating beasts." He gestured in the vague direction of the raptor paddock.

"No, they don't," she agreed with a smirk.

"She gets dates, though," he said, his smile fading. "So _some_ men on this island must be brave enough to approach her."

"Yes, but most of those men are the ones that ask her out to subtly insult her the entire night and try to bring her down a peg," she explained, distractedly looking down the road for the coming tow.

Owen's brow furrowed and he wasn't sure what to say. Claire was certainly a force to be reckoned with, but he had a hard time picturing her putting up with something like that - from a date, especially.

...

A week went by before he sent her the first text.

 **I really think you should reconsider your stance on this "no second time" issue.**

He had to patiently - or not so patiently - wait five minutes for her simple reply.

 **No.**

 **Do you even know what I'm talking about?**

 **Yes** , she responded almost immediately.

 **I'm just saying I think we probably had a very fun night our first time around and that it'd be nice to actually remember the experience. I had sex with Claire Dearing and I got nothing but the smell of vanilla on my sheets for a week afterwards. It's just not fair.**

He waited an hour, sitting on his porch and drinking a couple beers, but she never responded.

...

 **I have a theory** , he texted her a few days later. **I think you DO remember our night together and it was so awesome and good that you're afraid to repeat it because you think it'll ruin you for all other men. Either that, or you're afraid you'll fall in love with me.**

 **No.**

 **Damn it, you're frustrating.**

...

He sent her texts on and off for a whole month, lightly pestering her and begging in a round about way to have another night with her.

 **Marry me.** He sent her that text on more than one occasion, always with the answer.

 **No.**

 **You denying me only makes me want you more.**

 **Pig.**

He smiled and walked over to the pig pen and small, shed-like barn where the snuffling animals were kept before being thrown into a race for their lives.

"Come here, Wilbur," Owen muttered as he grabbed one of them from the floor. The pig squealed and wiggled in protest, not liking being held - and if he was one that had already been through the paddock and out the other side, he was probably squealing in fear.

He held the pig up to his face so they were cheek to cheek in a way, and snapped a quick photo with his phone. He sent the picture to Claire along with the comment **I don't see the resemblance.**

 **Cute.**

He was sure that was supposed to be sarcastic, but he decided to twist it into something else.

 **Thanks. I think you're pretty cute too. Come over to my place tonight and let me show you how cute I think you are.**

 **Idiot.**

...

 **What are you wearing?**

He sent to her on a particularly late night of drinks with Barry and some others.

 **Clothes.**

 **Your commitment sarcasm is something to be admired.**

 **Thanks.**

 **You're welcome. I'm surprised you're up so late.** Owen glanced at the clock on his bedside table which read one thirty-two in the morning. **Can't sleep?**

 **No.**

 **I could probably help you with that.**

 **No.**

 **You're not even a little curious about what it would be like?**

 **Nope.**

 **I don't believe you. But alright. I can only chase a woman for so long. I'll drop it. But if you ever change your mind, or are in the need of a lil sumthin-sumthin,** he chuckled at his own phrasing, **you know where to find me.**

 **Thanks.**

...

Three weeks later, he heard a pounding knock on his trailer door just as he was stepping out of the shower. Through a window, he saw it was Claire as he walked to the door. He smirked when he answered the door, only wearing a towel.

"Need something, Miss Dearing?"

She gave him a hard stare, her eyes not lowering to take in his body, he noticed. Without a word, she pushed her way inside and walked the short distance to his bedroom.

"I had a date tonight," she said. "It didn't end like I hoped it would."

He followed her, his hand gripping the towel lest it fall, and saw her stepping out of her shoes and unzipping her dress.

"And how did you hope it would end?" he asked slowly.

"With me screaming in pleasure," she said as she pulled the dress over her head. "He wouldn't even come up to my apartment."

"You got turned down?" he asked, smiling as she stood before him in only her undergarments. "And what? You thought you could come over here and I'd just be perfectly willing to take care of you?"

She shrugged lazily. "You said that you were always here if I needed it."

"I didn't mean after you'd been out with another guy," he said like that should have been obvious. He took a determined step closer. "But you need it?" he asked cautiously. He was holding his breath, not fully believing that was what she was there for after the months of turning him down.

"I do," she whispered. Her hands reached out to touch his chest. He held back the hiss at the touch of her cold fingers.

"What if I'd had another woman over?" he teased.

"Well, depending on who it was, I would have either made them leave, or left and gone home," she answered. "But, considering how much you seemed to have wanted this to happen, I would have thought you'd be pleased that I was here."

"I never said I wasn't pleased," he said softly. He smiled and leaned forward to kiss her but she took a quick step back and held up one finger.

"There are rules," she warned. "First, this is for tonight only. This won't be some reoccurring fling, so don't think that way."

Owen nodded, letting her know he agreed. He didn't need more than one night anyway.

"Second, you can't tell anyone about this."

"Who would I tell?" he asked.

"I don't know or care. Just keep this to yourself."

"Are you ashamed of me?" he asked mockingly.

"I've worked very hard to get where I am," she said. "And having a meaningless night of sex is only something men are allowed to do, apparently. If anyone found out about this, you have no idea the shit I'd have to deal with."

Owen shrugged. "Okay. Fine. Anything else?"

"Yes. I won't be staying the night, so don't insist on it when we're done."

"Okay."

"And I want the lights off."

"What? Why?"

"They're off or I'm leaving," she threatened.

"Alright," he grumbled and turned to the light switch on his wall, flicking it off. "Happy?"

She sighed and he heard the bed creak under her slight weight. "Not yet. But with any luck, you'll get me there."

Owen smirked and shook his head as he walked forward and found the edge of his bed with his knees. Bending over, he put his hands on the comforter and slid them over the material until he found her bare legs.

He alternated placing a kiss on each leg as he worked his way up her body.

"You really don't have to be so gentle," she said as he made it to her thighs.

"I won't be," he assured her.

He placed a long, hard kiss at the apex of her legs, over the black lacy underwear he'd been able to eye on her before he turned the lights off. He heard her small intake of breath and felt her tense and squirm beneath him.

As he moved higher, letting his mouth fall to her abdomen and then to the valley of her breasts, her hands gripped his arms and moved to his chest. She ran them down his torso and to the towel that she quickly removed and tossed to the side.

"At least I know you're clean," she commented as he kissed her neck.

"You have impeccable timing, Miss Dearing," he laughed. "Ten minutes earlier and I would have been covered in grease. Then what would you have done?"

"I would have showered with you," she said in a breathy whisper as her hands found his growing length. His head fell to her shoulder as she stroked him.

"Would we have had to shower in the dark?" he teased as he palmed her breast over her bra, learning her personal balance of soft and firm.

"Maybe," she said.

He thought he could hear her smile and lifted his head to kiss her. She opened her mouth to him fast and willing. He could taste the wine she must have drank earlier. He groaned softly as her hands continued to work him.

Before he felt like he'd burst in anticipation, he rolled off of her and got off the side of the bed.

"What are you doing?" she asked suddenly.

He found her legs with his hands again and pulled her around and to him so most of her legs hung off the mattress. He heard her soft huff of annoyance and ignored it.

"Jogging my memory," he muttered. "I can't remember how much you enjoyed this." He pulled her underwear down and kneeled on the ground between her legs.

She hummed as he opened her with a finger. He turned his head to the inner thigh of her right leg and latched onto a small bite of skin with his lips and teeth. He remembered from Christmas Eve she told him he'd left a similar mark there the first time they'd been in bed together. He liked the idea of leaving another reminder for her.

"You spread that vanilla lotion everywhere, don't you?" he breathed as he pulled away from her leg with a bitter taste.

"Makes me" - she gasped as he added another finger to his ministrations - "smooth."

Her breathy sighs, dramatic gasps, and her hips spasming to meet the push and pull of his hand were making his head spin with desire. He had a hard time believing he kept himself together for these sorts of activities when he was drunk.

He replaced his fingers with his mouth and tongue, and she cried out at the swift change.

She was amazing. She was so fucking amazing. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness, a faint amount of light creeping in from the window from his porch lights, and he could see and feel the movement of her arching her back. Her gasps had turned into needy pants and short moans.

"Oh- _Owen_." He'd never heard his name sound so seductive as it was coming from Claire's mouth.

He felt to his side for the nightstand next to him and opened the drawer, his hand feeling around for one of the foil packets he kept in there as he continued to fast her. After finding one, he put it on top of the nightstand and brought his hand down to lightly squeeze and stroke himself in preparation. He grabbed the packet and pulled his other hand off her leg to open it and roll the condom on.

Claire was writhing on the bed and her breaths and her moans were cutting off in short gasps in anticipation of a coming orgasm. He flattened his tongue against her folds before pulling away sharply.

"No, no, no," she whined hurriedly as he climbed over her. "What are you-"

He kissed her and her hands clutched either side of his face as his hands worked to move her body further up the bed and spread her legs around his hips.

"Good?" he asked quickly as he pulled his mouth from hers.

She lifted her head up and her lips and teeth found his bottom lip in response. Her hands guided him and he entered her as fast as her body would allow him.

"Shi- _it_ ," he choked in a whisper. He could feel the pressure of her walls as they contracted around him. He couldn't move, could hardly think. The warmth, her cries of delight in his ear, the feel of her breasts against his chest (he wasn't sure when she'd taken her bra off but wasn't complaining as the skin of her breasts felt like silk against him), how her thighs and calves felt smooth against his hips and the backs of his legs - all of it had his heart pounding in his chest and his body begging for a quick release that he didn't want to provide.

"Did you-? Did you just-?" Claire asked, still gasping.

"No," he said laughing, the tension in his body easing for the moment. "But you did."

"Oh, thank God," she sighed.

"What kind of men have you been with, Dearing?" he asked jokingly as he lifted himself over her.

"The wrong kind," she admitted. She lifted her hands to his chest, her fingers and palms gliding over his strained muscles. "I want to be on top of you."

"Okay," he agreed. But before he flipped them, he eased himself almost completely out of her and pushed back in. A moan rumbled in her chest and her body welcomed him with twitching, warm, and soft walls around his member. "Are you sure?"

He continued his slow thrusts, breathing heavily and smiling as she responded to him.

"Let me-" she stuttered. "Let me be on top."

"Why?" he gasped as his movements became faster.

"So you can touch me," she whispered.

It was a damn good reason. In their current position he couldn't do much more than keep his arms locked and his hands on the mattress next to her body. He rolled them quickly, his knees bent over the side of the bed, and she used his chest and stomach as leverage for sitting upright as she straddled him.

Claire hummed in satisfaction at the new angle and he could just make out her form in the darkness. She had her head thrown back and her fingertips rested gently on his lower abdomen. She was gorgeous. He had half a mind to fold his hands behind his head to enjoy the show as she rode him. But a bigger part of him, the part that knew he'd never get this opportunity again and that knew she wanted him to, wanted to touch every inch of her that he could. He slid his hands up from the tops of her thighs to rest on her hips as she began rocking them against him.

"Good God, Grady," she sighed.

"You feel so fucking good," he told her in a harsh whisper as she lifted herself and came back down. " _Fuck_."

He sat up and wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her down harder on his shaft as she would come down, and the other hand he used to bring one of her breasts to his mouth. Her fingers threaded through his hair as she hid a cry behind closed lips. His tongue lapped wildly as her breathing hitched and the slow, building pressure of her walls against him had him waiting for her crash to come. Her rhythm became erratic and he brought his hands back to her hips to guide her.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and he raised his mouth to hers. Her tongue was slow but greedy against his. Her short, staccato breaths through her nose and the whine building in the back of her throat foreshadowed her pulling away from his mouth with a shuddering, choked cry.

He followed closely behind her release. His hips jerked upward of their own accord as she continued riding him through their climaxes. His hands were pressed tightly to the middle of her back, keeping her steady and close to him as they came down.

" _Jesus Christ_ ," he panted as she let her weight rest against his chest. Slowly, he eased himself back down, still holding her to him. " _Fuck_ , Dearing."

She hummed and tiredly lifted herself above him on shaky arms. Cautiously, she raised her hips and he held her behind her thighs as his member left her in an excruciating slowness that might have even turned him on again, though he was certain he wouldn't be able to move.

She sighed and moved awkwardly to lay next to him across the bed. For a minute or so they laid in silence, catching their breaths. He brought a hand up the rest on his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat.

"Seriously," he panted, "marry me." Claire hummed again and Owen thought it sounded deliciously pleasant. He turned his head in her direction and saw her eyes were closed and her lips parted. "Do you agree now that it was worth doing again? Worth remembering?"

He saw her smile and tilted her head to see him. "It was very nice, Grady."

" _Nice_ ," he scoffed. "Give me, like, three more minutes and I'll change that 'nice' to 'fucking fantastic.'"

"I appreciate your enthusiasm," she taunted.

Owen mustered up his strength to push himself into a seated position. He grabbed a couple of tissues off his nightstand to dispose of the used condom before standing.

"Do you want anything to drink?" he asked, making his way in the dark room to his kitchen.

"No, I'm fine," she answered.

He heard her weight shifting on the bed as he opened the small refrigerator door. The light from within could have been the light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak, for how bright it was to his dilated eyes.

When he walked back to the bedroom, now once more fully blind in the dark, he could hear her rustling around but couldn't tell what she was doing.

"How is it that I always lose my bra with you?"

"Always?" he asked. "It's only the second time. And what are you looking for your bra for?"

"I'm leaving."

"What?" He didn't like how panicked that had sounded. "What do you mean you're leaving?"

"I told you I wasn't staying the night," she said with strained patience.

"I'm not saying stay the night," he argued. "I'm saying stay for one more round. You're really done already?"

"Yes," she said with a soft laugh.

"What happened to appreciating my enthusiasm?"

"I do appreciate it," she countered in a kind tone. "It's unnecessary, but I do appreciate it."

"Oh, well as long as you _appreciate_ it," he said, irritated. He moved towards the light switch and flicked the lights on.

" _Owen_ ," she groaned as she used one hand to shield her eyes from the sudden light and the other to cover her bare breasts. She'd already found her underwear and pulled those on.

He grabbed the bath towel off the floor and wrapped it around his waist. He wasn't typically so shy about his body, especially not with a woman he'd had sex with, but as she was private about hers, it made him a little more self conscious.

He stayed silent as they both hunted for her articles of clothing. She found her bra between the wall and his dresser. He tossed her the purple dress she showed up in and she hastily pulled it over her head.

"Thanks for this," she said after slipping into her heels. She was fighting with the sleeve of her dress and he wondered if she was avoiding his eyes.

He sighed. He was still annoyed that she was leaving when he was fully prepared to go again, but he knew it wasn't fair of him to assume she'd be up for it as well.

"No, no, Miss Dearing," he said, placing his hands on his towel-clad hips. "The pleasure was all mine."

Her eyes flicked to his and a coy smirk played on her lips. She began a confident strut in the direction of the door, and also him. "Well, that's not really true, now, is it?" she said in a low, sedative tone as she passed him.

"No," he said with a small smile. "I guess you got something out of it, too."

He followed her to the door of his trailer which she opened and quickly exited. She turned around as he stood in the doorway.

"Remember, you agreed not to tell anyone," she said.

He rolled his eyes. "I won't."

"Okay, well..." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and glanced briefly around the outside of his humble abode. "Good night, then," she finally said.

"Night," he called as she turned back towards her car. "Drive safe."

He realized, as she was walking away from him, that he really wasn't ready for her to leave just yet. He _really_ wanted to have her in his bed again. He'd told himself this entire time since they first woke up together that he just needed one more night with her - just one more time. He needed to get her out of his system, in a way. He had been curious about what they'd be like together, and now he knew. And he wished he'd dragged it out longer. He wished they had hours together. He vaguely wondered if he'd always want just one more night with her, and that if he got it, if he'd always feel this disappointed when she left.

* * *

 **Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

Three days after she left his bungalow, Owen picked up his phone with the intent of contacting her. He hadn't meant to wait an exact three days - that was just how it happened. That was how long he could go without feeling like he was going crazy from actively trying not to think of her body against his.

 **Marry me** , he texted her, smiling.

 **No** , was her standard, simple reply.

 **You're breaking my heart.**

 **Sorry.**

 **Liar.**

...

 **You should come over to my place tonight** , he texted her another couple of days later.

 **Pass.**

 **Really, I'll let you do whatever you want to me.**

 **I have no doubt** , she replied. **However, there is nothing more I want to do with you.**

 **Whatever. I'm just happy I finally got more than a single, monosyllabic word from you.**

 **Enjoy the little things in life.**

He took that as progress.

...

 **I need something from you.**

Her text came as a surprise to him as it was the first time she'd initiated any electronic communication between them that wasn't a work memo with multiple people included. The raptors below him started chattering impatiently as he stood on the bridge with his hand raised and holding a dead rat, the other holding his phone.

"Sorry, girls," he mumbled before tossing the rat to Blue.

 **What could you possibly need from me?** he asked.

 **A little help with an itch.**

He smirked, still a bit surprised by her actions, but now excited as well.

 **Come by my bungalow later and I'll see what I can do.**

Maybe he should be playing hard to get. Maybe he shouldn't jump at the chance to have sex with her whenever she called for him because thus far she hadn't shown him the same curtesy. But then again, it was Claire fucking Dearing and he figured he should get it while and when he can with her.

 **No, not later. Now.**

His brows rose slightly.

 **During work hours? Dearing, you surprise me.**

 **Take your lunch break now and meet me at your place.**

 **As sexy as your impatience for me is, I've already taken my lunch. No go, sweetheart.**

 **I'll come over to the paddock. We'll have a "meeting" in your office.**

He was cautious of her suggestion, knowing this had to be far from normal for her.

 _Or maybe it wasn't._

He shook his head, not enjoying where that thought might lead him.

He glanced around nervously, like he thought someone might be reading his messages over his shoulder. But no one was closer than ten yards. The girls had recently become very distracted when other people were on the bridge - they snarled and hissed in hostility. As a result, a new rule was set in place that Owen was to be the only one on the bridge during their training.

As discreetly and as casually as he could manage, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and peaked through the bifold.

"Damn," he muttered.

 **I don't have a condom with me** , he told her. **Just come over later and I'll make it up to you.**

 **I can't see you tonight. Just find one.**

 **If I go around asking for a condom and then you show up and we disappear for a little while, I'm pretty sure people are going to start connecting the dots.**

 **Figure it out, Grady. I need this.**

A picture came with her text that had him leaning forward and griping the railing of the bridge as shock threatened to overcome him. Her blouse was indecently unbuttoned and her breasts were shamelessly on display in a white bra. The picture cut off just below her chin and it appeared she was sitting at her desk as her breasts were shelved on a dark wooden surface.

If she had shocked him before, he wasn't sure what that moment qualified as. Astonishment, maybe?

"Barry!" he barked suddenly. The raptors below him started and one or two hissed in retaliation of the scare. "Take over for me."

He jogged the length of the bridge to the stairs.

"Why, what's wrong?" Barry asked as he climbed the metal steps.

"I've got a meeting," Owen mumbled as the two men passed each other.

"A meeting?" Barry questioned. "With who?"

"Dearing," he shouted back. "I forgot about it. She's on her way. I'm supposed to give her a report for InGen," he lied.

"Oh," Barry laughed jeeringly. "Good luck with that."

Owen rummaged around inside his office, knowing he'd never find a condom in there. He'd never had the occasion for one to be used there and he wasn't so hopelessly horny and optimistic as to keep a stash where he worked. Now he wished he had been. Giving up and slamming the door of his desk cabinet shut, he stood and ran his fingers through his hair. His phone vibrated against his chest and he withdrew it from the pocket of his vest.

 **I'm on my way** , she said. She sent another picture, this one of her tight skirt hiked up high enough on her legs as she sat on the leather seat in her car that he knew the material only _just_ covered whatever underwear she may - _or may not_ , he thought - be wearing. Her hand was resting against the creamy skin of her thigh and he wondered if he'd still be able to see the red mark he left on her a little more than a week ago.

There was an uncomfortable tightening in his pants from her pictures and the anticipation. He figured worse case was they'd just go down on each other if he couldn't find a condom. But, God damn, did he want to be buried inside her. There wasn't anyway to ask for one from someone else. He briefly thought of raiding Barry's office but that man wasn't the type to keep one in his wallet let alone his desk. No one else had offices except Hoskins, but he kept his locked when he wasn't on the island. The other techs only had a locker room where they kept their things during work.

It might be a long shot, but Owen figured it was worth a try. He quietly exited his office and crept down the hall towards the locker room. He knew most of the workers were outside, tending to the girls and the paddock, but he didn't want to cause anymore attention to himself than necessary.

The locker room was, mercifully, empty and he stalked around, glancing at the names written on painter's tape above the stalls.

"You're a perv, Mike," he muttered as he stopped in front of one locker. "Let's see what you've got."

He found the master key on his keyring for the lockers (he and Barry each had one for the random drug searches the park did - they were pretty serious about the no drug policy, especially after finding a plot of land devoted to growing weed a few years back) and unlocked the metal-mesh door.

"Ah, you beautiful moron," he said happily as he saw Mike's wallet sitting on a small shelf next to a set of keys.

He opened the wallet, ignoring the bills and digging around for a shiny foil packet. He almost cried out in success as he found one in a small zippered pocket. He quickly put the wallet back and closed the locker.

Casually, he left the locker room and walked down the hall to his office towards the back of the small building. He heard the heavy door to the outside open and turned to see Claire entering the hall. Her shirt was buttoned up and her skirt didn't appear to have a wrinkle on it from her antics in the car. The only proof of her wanton behavior was left on his phone.

"Did you find one?" she asked quietly as she fell into step with him.

He merely nodded and opened his office door for her. He thought he caught her smiling before he turned to shut and lock the door.

Her lips were on his the moment her turned back to her. Her hands were in his hair and her chest was pressed firmly against his.

"I can't believe we're doing this," he said, muffled against her lips.

She began pulling him, walking backwards through the small room until they reached the front of his desk.

"I don't have much time," she whispered hurriedly. Her hands worked his belt loose. "I have to be at the aviary in forty minutes."

He knew it took about a half hour to get to that part of the island from where they were. He undid three buttons on her blouse, exposing the bra she'd teased him with before.

"I can make that work," he breathed before leaned back in to kiss her. His tongue battled with hers as his hand gripped her skirt and pulled the firm material up and up until it was over her hips. "I could make it work better if you'd come over tonight."

"I can't," she said. He kissed her neck as he pulled her underwear down her legs. "I have plans."

He froze but she hadn't seemed to notice as she hitched herself up onto his desk. Her hands fumbled with his pants, opening them and pulling them and his boxers low enough to free his erection.

"You have a date tonight?" he asked, bewildered.

"It's not a date," she answered. "Just dinner with some friends."

He kissed her again, satisfied with her answer, and reached into his shirt breast pocket for the condom he'd pilfered from his staff. She unbuttoned his shirt halfway as he rolled the latex on.

"Did you like my pictures?" she asked quietly as she kissed his chest.

"Definitely," he sighed as he reached for her hips. She guided him to her entrance. "You're good?" he asked, hesitating. They hadn't done any foreplay to prepare her body for him.

"I've been ready since this morning," she panted, tugging anxiously on his member. "I want you, Grady."

If he'd doubted her words at all, her body told him otherwise, readily accepting him with warm, smooth walls. Her head tipped back when he was fully inside her. He set a fast pace, knowing they didn't have all the time in the world. Claire was biting her lip and soft groans were coming from her throat in time with his hips. Her hands were propping her up at an angle that kept her breasts too far away from him for his liking, though the sight of them, peaking out from her bra and blouse, jostling with their movements, was something he thought he could get used to.

They were only a few minutes in when there was a loud knock on his door. He froze again, buried in her.

"No, no, no," she whispered desperately. She rocked her hips. "Please, don't stop."

He figured after they were done there, he could die happily. Claire Dearing begging him _not_ to stop fucking her had to be the greatest thing to ever happen to him.

He took a steadying breath and closed his eyes to avoid the sight of her distracting him.

"I'm in a meeting," he shouted.

"It's about time for the feeding," Barry called.

"Yeah, I know," he said, agitated by the disruption. "I'll be out in a minute."

They waited quietly, Claire still moving her hips slowly, barely rocking against him but by the look on her face it was working for her. He heard the loud slam of the building's entry door and let out the breath he'd been holding. He started to build the pace of his hips back up.

"Wait," she said. "Go slow."

Her eyes were closed and she held herself up enough to allow for more mobility of her own. Her mouth fell open and she let out a long, content sigh as he slowly entered her. With her hips positioned in that way, he knew that his shaft was rubbing against her clit as they moved. But soon her arms began to shake in strain and she let her full weight rest back on his desk. He brought a hand between them to do what his member no longer could at the resulting angle.

Her breath quickened as his slow strokes quickly built her up. He watched in a dazed sort of awe as she climaxed, her walls pulsing around him, her jaw slack, and her eyes lazily closed.

It wasn't anything like the frenzied fuck he'd been expecting. He thought they'd be trying to stifle moans with tongues and skin and his hips would be slapping against hers as she tumbled, clawing at him. This was almost... _sweet_. If it wasn't for the fact that he had her on his desk and their clothes were still mostly on, he would have called it love making.

"Come on," she urged him quietly. She was still humming in relief as she reached one hand towards him and ran her fingers along the flesh exposed by his open shirt. " _Fuck, Owen,_ " she moaned softly. "So good."

God, she was sexy. Post orgasm, sated, and coaxing him to his relief with little notions of praise of his skill with her body - he really loved fucking this woman.

"Owen," she said, somewhere between a pant and a moan. Both his hands held up her torso as she arched and leaned her head back. "God, Owen."

Her body still clenched around him as she was settling. He felt the quick build and tidal wave of release at his sudden climax. He leaned forward, his mouth eagerly searching out her breasts as his hips jerked shallowly.

After a minute to catch his breath, he straightened and pulled away from her. He grabbed tissues off his desk to dispose of the condom while Claire pulled her underwear up her legs and straightened her skirt.

"Thanks," she said.

He watched her button her blouse as he pulled up his pants. He smiled.

"Anytime," he laughed. "Seriously. Anytime."

She smiled too, straightening her shirt on her shoulders. Owen buttoned his shirt and found his phone, discarded at some point from his vest, on his desk. There was a text from Barry. **I was trying to save you** , he said, referring to the disruptive knock a few moments ago.

"I still can't believe you came over here for that," he said. "You're full of surprises, Dearing. And here I thought you were done with me," he teased, slipping his cell back in his pocket.

"I thought I was too," she said. She made her way to his door. "I guess you just had what I needed today."

"God," he sighed, amazed and shaking his head. "Marry me."

She rolled her eyes, still smirking as she left his office. He followed after her.

"No, seriously," he continued when they stepped outside. "I think we'd be a great married couple. We wouldn't care be in each other's business all the time, and we'd get to have great sex every night."

"It's not a bad thought," she mused humorously as she opened her car door. "But I think I'd kill you if we lived together."

"Not if we were doing that all the time," he said with a jerk of her head toward the offices.

Again, she smiled. "Thanks for your help, Mr. Grady."

She settled into her seat and pulled the door closed before he could make another comment. He watched her pull out and away from the paddock, suddenly thinking about Claire in a schoolgirl's outfit calling him professor.

He might have a problem.

...

He had to admit, he was quite proud of himself. After their "meeting" in his office, Owen abstained from texting or communicating with her in any way. The pride came from his self-control, because he sure as hell _wanted_ to see her again but he wouldn't allow himself to cave. He'd spent a gross amount of time begging for her body and she'd only relented twice, and on her terms no less. So to save himself some trouble and from looking pathetic, he refused to seek her out first. He figured she'd come around again eventually, and he could wait it out...he hoped.

Thankfully - or mercifully - his patience was only tested for a week.

He drove his bike back to his bungalow after a full day at the paddock. The air was warm and starting to turn muggy again as the slightly cooler months out of the year came to an end. The wind on his bare forearms, neck, and head was a nice reprieve from the heat. The sun was just beginning to set and he was thinking it was going to be a nice night to lay out in his hammock and drink a cold beer.

Those plans were cast by the wayside, however, as soon as he saw the familiar white Mercedes parked in front of his trailer. His heart picked up its beating pace just slightly as he parked next to the car and cut the engine. He glanced around, noticing she wasn't seated behind the wheel, and spotted her just as she was standing up from the rocker he kept on the deck of his shed.

Silently, they both made their way to the door of his trailer. He watched her carefully as she walked down the few wooden steps in her white heels and around to the door where she stood, facing the door and avoiding his stare, with an impassive expression.

"So-" he began with a small chuckle.

"Don't," she said quickly. "Just...don't."

He frowned as she sighed heavily. He unlocked the door and opened it for her. She entered without hesitation and turned to the left, beelining for the bedroom. He followed slowly behind her, curious about her mood. His eyes never lost track of her as she slipped off her heels and reached behind her to unzip her dress.

Taking her lead, he took off his vest and toed off his boots. He'd begun unbuttoning his shirt, still standing in the doorway of his small bedroom, when she made her way to him, her dress now laying across his dresser. The lights were off in the trailer, but as the sun had yet to fully set, plenty of light shone through the window to illuminate her form. She still wouldn't look him in the eye, he noticed. As she took over unbuttoning his shirt, he briefly wondered if she was embarrassed about something.

"Good to see you again, Miss Dearing," he said softly as she spread the lapels of his shirt back and over his shoulders so the material would fall to the floor (with the exception of it getting caught on his watch).

She sighed again in response. Her hands fell to his belt which she quickly loosened.

"Bad day?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, finally speaking. She tugged his unfastened pants down, leaving him in his boxers. "I need something from you."

"What's that?" he asked playfully. He had a pretty good idea what she wanted.

Claire grabbed his right arm, just above his wrist and walked him forward so he could step out of his cargos. "I really," - she began, pulling him a couple more steps until they were at the foot of the bed - " _really_ ," - her hand traveled up his arm and then down his chest. He repressed the tingle in his nerves - "want to scream."

"You want me to make you scream?" he repeated carefully. She nodded and brought both hands to the front of his boxers, slipping a couple of fingers beneath the band. "Okay," he agreed. "Just remember that you asked for it."

He thought he caught her smiling just before he craned his neck down to reach her lips. He brought his hands to her face for a moment - to hold her there and savor that moment when she kissed him back - then dropped them almost immediately to her hips. He edged her backwards and wouldn't let her mouth leave his as he climbed over her and they moved further up the bed.

"I have a game we can play," he mumbled against her lips. He moved his mouth further down to her neck and chest.

"We're already playing a game," she said. "It's called 'Make me Scream.'"

"My game goes along with that," he assured her. "I call it 'How Many Times Can I Make You Come?'" He pulled the strap of her bra down to free one of her breasts.

"Oh, that sounds like a fun game," she breathed. He smiled against her nipple before taking it in his mouth and gentle laving at it with his tongue.

The answer was four. He brought her to orgasm four times before he couldn't contain his own any longer.

The first was brought by his fingers and tongue on her clitoris. The second by only his tongue, roaming between her clit and just inside her walls. The third came from her riding him - hard, he might add. The second must have brought about a second wind in her or knocked some bottled up sexual frustration over because she went wild on him. Much of that energy was spent during that third round so for the fourth, she let him roll them and he fucked her into his bed, like he'd been dreaming about since the Christmas Eve party.

He almost hadn't made it through to her fourth. There was a moment when he had to stop. He stilled his movements, holding his weight above her.

"What's wrong?" she had asked, panting.

He groaned. "One second."

"Did you cramp up?" she asked and it sounded like scolding.

"No," he laughed. "I'm just- " He took a deep breath which didn't help. "I'm trying to get to number four."

"Oh." She smiled and he thought it was the most adorable she'd ever looked, even if it was teasing. "Well, good. Because I _am_ waiting, Grady."

"I know, Dearing," he said through gritted teeth.

She flexed her hips upward and he let out a choked moan, quickly settling his weight on his bent legs and he grabbed her hips with his hands, firmly to keep them in place. Her smile turned devilish.

He was so deep inside her. He thought he could stay there forever in the warm and tight sheath. But those walls clenched even tighter and his hips jerked and a moan sounded behind his closed lips in response.

"Not fair," he breathed.

He wasn't sure how she managed it, exactly, but she was able to pull herself up into his lap, their bodies never separating. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he helped support her weight as her exhausted legs were shaking under the strain.

"Come on," she urged in a sultry whisper. "Fuck me, Grady. Fuck me." Her hips moved marginally against his. Their mouths met for a brief kiss before she pulled away, gasping and grabbing at the back of his neck. "Fuck me. I don't want you to stop."

"Alright!" he declared, determined once more and not liking her torturing him. He kissed her and forced his tongue into her mouth. As gently as he could while moving fast, he brought her back down on the bed and spread her legs further apart. He set his pace again, quick and unrelenting. Soon, he brought one of her legs up and let it bend at her knee, he tucked it in the crook of his arm and thrust deep and hard. She cried out, her arms grasping the bed above her as her back arched.

He'd learned the meaning behind the noises she made by then. Her loud moans followed by long hums and heavy pants usually meant she was close. Her hands, clutching at the sheets and then at his body meant she would spill over at any moment. He bent down to kiss her, gentle in contrast to the rest of there bodies. His tongue lapped against hers until she came to life beneath him, breaking away from his mouth to shout out as her body convulsed around him.

He never stood a chance of lasting longer.

He fell to lay next to her when they finished. The sound of their heavy breathing the only noise around.

"Marry me," he said with a tired sigh.

"You always have to ruin it, don't you?" she pondered, staring at the paneled and peeling ceiling.

"One of these days, Dearing. One of these days." He looked at her. "You having a better day yet?"

He saw her fight a smile and raise up to sit, running fingers through her hair and then covering her chest as she glanced around for her undergarments.

"Why do you do that?" he asked curiously, still laying out in all his glory.

"Do what?"

"Hide," he explained, sitting up next to her. "You know I've seen you naked. I think you know I _like_ you naked," he joked. "I might even go as far to say I _prefer_ you naked. So why hide yourself?"

"It's called modesty, Mr. Grady," she said haughtily. She reached over to his nightstand, grabbed a few tissues, and let them fall in his lap. "You should take a class in it one day."

"Only if you're the teacher, my dear." He placed a quick kiss to her shoulder before standing to find a pair of shorts and rid his body of the spent condom.

He tossed her the dress draped over his dresser and left the room so she and her modesty could get dressed while he grabbed a beer. He still intended on lounging out on his hammock that night.

He walked her out to her car when she was ready to leave. She stood outside the vehicle, looking uncomfortable for a brief moment before she smiled kindly, but strained.

"I appreciate-"

"My enthusiasm?" he asked dryly.

She rolled her eyes but her smile and posture relaxed. "Well, yes, but I was going to say your discretion."

He shrugged. "I told you I wouldn't tell anyone."

"I know," she said. "It's just nice to know that you're a man of your word."

The side of his mouth lifted. "Thanks."

She nodded, a little stiff again, and turned to open her door.

"Hey," he said suddenly as she climbed into her car. "Next time, give me a little bit of a heads up, if you can. Sometimes Barry comes here after work with me..."

"I-" she stuttered and laughed a bit incredulously. "I don't plan on doing this again."

"Alright, well, good," he said with an endearing smile. "But just in case you do - which you know I'm perfectly okay with - it might be good to let me know so that no one else stops by and sees you. Given how much you like your discretion."

She regarded him quietly for a moment, her brow furrowed. "Wouldn't you want to keep it quiet as well?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you really be okay with people knowing that you and I are- _were_...doing this sort of thing?" she asked in disbelief.

"Honey, I'd shout it from the rooftops if you'd let me," he teased. Her expression hardened and she pulled back further into her car. He'd said the wrong thing. "Or...I don't know, maybe I wouldn't. I guess it's no one's business but ours, right?" That seemed to make her happier.

"That's how I feel," she agreed. She placed her hand on the handle of her door, indicating she was ready to leave. "Good night, Mr. Grady."

"Good night, Dearing."

He walked slowly over to his hammock, watching as she backed out of the dirt path that was his driveway for all intents and purposes. He waved just as she pulled out of sight. He wondered when he'd see her again. _If_ he'd see her again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Next chapter. I'll try not to post any old Charade chapters to this story again. Oops! =]**

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At first he thought it was cute; the way she denied that they'd ever fall back in bed together again, considering she'd yet to maintain that stance while they had actual memories of each other to hold on to. He found it funny that she wouldn't admit to wanting it to occur again. It was almost ego-stoking. She was kindling a narcissistic fire within him. He felt irresistible to her.

He should have known she was setting him up for disappointment.

The days after their last encounter in his bungalow turned into weeks which soon turned into two whole months before he saw her again. He didn't text her during that time, knowing his efforts would be wasted. There were times when he'd type a message, only to delete it before sending, wondering if maybe he just needed to get himself back on her radar. But over time, that urge faded. Things at the paddock had been hectic, the park was heading into its peak season; it wasn't good timing, he determined.

Hoskins was making regular visits once every two weeks, which always put Owen on edge. He didn't like the gleam in the guy's eye when he looked at his raptors. It was almost maniacal. Also, Delta and Echo had come down with a strange cough that the vets couldn't seem to get rid of. Their speed was slowing, their energy was down. He was beginning to worry InGen would decide to cut their losses and terminate them.

He knew she was probably swamped, too, as the number of guests in the park grew (it would seem exponentially and overnight). Also, he'd heard the engineers had deemed the T-Rex paddock as vulnerable and in need of immediate repair. Not to mention this was the hardest part of the year to get supplies to the island due to all the tropical storms.

He thought with all that going on that maybe she'd need a little stress relief that he seemed pretty good at providing her, but she hadn't come to him. Still, he hadn't completely given up. And he realized just how pathetically hopeful he was when they ran into each other one afternoon around lunchtime.

Normally, he and Barry avoided the shops and restaurants of the theme park like the area was infested with some plague and flesh-eating bacteria hybrid disease. The only exceptions being the bars and a few restaurants at night and that was almost exclusively during the off season. But that day, call it the stars aligning, fate, kismet, or what have you, he and Barry went to a little sub shop on The Boulevard and within five minutes, Claire and her assistant walked in.

"Well, if it isn't my knight in shining armor," Zara said as she and Claire stood behind the two men in line.

Owen turned in surprise, smiling as he saw them, particularly pleased to see the Operations Manager in all her sparkling white-dress-wearing glory. She, of course, paid him no mind, with her eyes and fingers glued to the screen of her phone.

"Hey," Owen greeted, smiling.

"'Knight in shining armor'?" Barry repeated, confused.

"I saved her from some mud," Owen explained.

Zara rolled her eyes with a playful smirk and crossed her arms. "Mr. Grady was kind enough to call for a tow when my car got stuck," she answered.

"And I waited with you until the tow truck came," he added proudly.

"Yes, you were quite the gentleman," she said humorously.

"How galant of you," Barry teased. "Pretty girl needs some help, of course you're the first one to volunteer. But if your best friend needs you to cover a night shift for him, suddenly you've caught the flu."

"Hey! I've covered for you plenty of times," Owen argued.

" _Once_."

Zara laughed at the exchange. While Owen shrugged. "My nights have been busy. What do you want me to say?"

"Oh, speaking of busy nights," Zara said suddenly. "I had a friend ask about you."

"About me?" he asked, eyeing Claire who still hadn't shown the small group any interest.

"Yes, she wanted to know if you were seeing anyone."

Claire's eyes flickered briefly and discreetly to her assistant. Owen wouldn't have seen it if he hadn't been looking at her at that moment.

"Which friend are we talking about?" he asked curiously, tearing his gaze from Claire and standing up straighter, prouder.

Zara smirked. "Do you know Sylvie Waters? She works with the Mosasaur."

"Oh, right," Barry said. "She's the one with the tattoo on her arm, right?" He placed his left hand over the underside of his right forearm.

Zara nodded, but Owen shook his head. "I don't think I know her."

"She's cute," Barry said with a shrug. "And nice. I've only talked to her a few times."

"She's _very_ nice," Zara agreed emphatically. "And _very_ cute. And she's really funny."

"So she's perfect?" Owen taunted. "No flaws at all, huh?"

"None," she answered, smiling.

"Wow," he said, impressed. "Unfortunately, I am seeing someone right now."

Zara immediately looked put out and he watched Claire carefully to see her eyes flick quickly up to his. He smiled triumphantly.

" _Who?_ " Barry asked, surprised.

"Stacy," he answered.

Barry groaned. "That again?"

Stacy worked in engineering. She and Owen had met at a party a few years back and had an on again, off again sort of relationship. They'd stayed friends even when they were off. A couple of nights ago they'd met for dinner, and while the night had been completely platonic, that was usually how their relationship started back up again.

"Oh," Claire said suddenly, looking up from her phone and addressing Zara. "I forgot to tell you I'll be going home after my three o'clock meeting tomorrow to get ready for my date with David."

Zara gaped. "I thought you had said it was over between the two of you?"

Claire shrugged. "I reconsidered."

"Dearing's got her herself a boyfriend?" Owen mocked, hiding his surprise, as Barry placed their sandwich orders, finally having made it to the front of the long line.

Claire's steel gaze turned on him and she raised an unimpressed brow in response.

Owen folded his arms over his chest and smiled. It didn't go unnoticed by him that she brought up that she was seeing someone right after he'd done the same. "So what's this guy do? Run a billion dollar corporation? Do you guys swap managing tips over a bottle of wine?"

Claire sneered at his remarks. "And what do you talk about with your dates? Nursing techniques for velociraptors?"

"Sometimes," he conceded. "But Stacy's in the Army, so mostly we just share the heroic stories of us defending our country," he said haughtily.

"Those stories are interesting," she said nonchalantly, diverting her attention back to her phone. "David has a few of those from his time in the Marines."

"Marines, huh?" Owen asked shrewdly. "Where'd he serve?"

"Afghanistan, mostly. Though, some of his missions were classified, so I don't know everything," she answered, still avoiding his eyes.

"And what's this guy do now?"

"He's the head of security," Zara answered helpfully.

" _David Browning?_ " Owen asked incredulously. "You're dating _that_ guy?"

Owen was a very self-assured man. He was proud of his time in the Navy. And was even more proud of the work he did with the animals he trained. There weren't many people that could get under his skin - not like in the way Hoskins did, where he constantly felt like punching the man; or like the way Claire did, where he spent nights trying to remember the way her body felt against his. But this man, David Browning, creeped the hell out of him.

They'd only met on a few occasions; once when he was first hired. As a former military man being brought in to train the island's deadliest, Browning had shown an interest. They'd met again when one of the paddock's techs had half his forearm bitten off a few years back. And once more at a meeting to discuss new security policies throughout the park where Browning had asked Owen to assist with the ACU regarding asset containment for the larger and more aggressive dinosaurs.

In all fairness, Browning didn't seem to have a problem with Owen. If anything, he was a little too chummy with him. For instance, when the incident at the paddock had occurred and they were going over the details of what happened prior to the tech being attacked, Browning had insinuated to Owen that he understood that safety isn't always a guarantee and that "things happen," that they'd both had seen some things during their service (though Owen never mentioned anything about his time in the Navy to him).

It was his cavalier attitude about people's safety with the animals (which he found severely inappropriate considering the man was head of security - guest security, mind, not security of the assets, but still) and the whispers of his time in the Marines - things about black ops and dishonorable discharges (he had absolutely no proof of any of that, but people talked) - that kept Owen feeling at odds with him.

"Yes. _That guy,_ " Claire answered snidely.

"Doesn't seem like your type," he commented.

"And what would you know of my type, Mr. Grady?" she asked. She let the hand holding her phone rest on her hip and cocked her head curiously.

"Absolutely nothing, Miss Dearing," he agreed quietly with a pointed stare. He at least knew what her type was in bed but he knew she wouldn't be too happy with him saying that with company around them.

Barry collected their prepared subs from the counter and they left with a swift goodbye. Owen remained in a sour mood for the rest of the day. He blamed it on the heavy traffic of tourists as they headed back to the paddock.

...

Owen figured they were done. She was seeing someone. She thought he was seeing someone. She wasn't going to come around his place anymore. He thought about deleting her number from his phone to preemptively squash any moments of weakness where he might try to reach out to her. But he hadn't been able to bring himself to do even that.

Three weeks after their tense exchange in the sub shop, Owen was throwing a party at his bungalow. Now that the tourists were packing up the bars, the park's employees needed a different place to let loose, and Owen tried to provide that space to them a couple times a year. A week of storms had just pushed through, and in its wake was the mildest of fronts that didn't do much to lower the temperature, but did bring an ease to the humidity. So he'd thrown an impromptu party. The sun had baked the ground enough during the day that the mud was mostly dried up. The lights he kept strung up year round and the glowing fire pit made for a nice setting. Plus, these people knew how to drink. They had two folding tables covered in bottles of liquor and wine and a couple of kegs on the ground.

He settled himself into one of the many lawn chairs someone had brought along and took sips from a beer while chatting with those sitting nearby.

"Hey," a soft voice said just before a kiss was pressed to the top of his head.

He looked up and watched as Stacy walked around the chair to stand before him. She slid her way into his lap and wrapped an arm around his neck. He rested his beer bottle on her knee.

"So you're really going to leave me, huh?" he asked.

She'd told him a couple weeks earlier she would be shipping out soon for a second tour in the Middle East. He was surprised, knowing how hard of a time she'd had during her first.

"I really am," she said. "One more month."

"How could you possibly want to leave all this?" He gestured wide to the surrounding area and all the people around them.

She sighed heavily and glanced around. A frown formed on her brow as her gaze was drawn to something in the distance.

"Who's that?" she asked, nodding her head in the direction of the dirt road.

Owen followed her stare. Mostly hidden by the shadows of the surrounding trees in the moonlight, he could just barely see the glint of the fire and lights off the white hood of a vehicle.

"Probably security checking on the fire," he lied easily. "Get up for a second; I'll go talk to them. Here, finish my beer."

Stacy slumped back down in the lawn chair once he stood and accepted the proffered bottle.

Owen made his way, as casually as he could so as not to draw attention, to the Mercedes parked up the road. Claire rolled down the window as he drew nearer.

"I'm sorry. I should've called," she whined. He saw her hands gripping the wheel tightly as he stood at the door and she dropped her head to rest against the leather between her fists. "You told me to let you know if I would be coming by and I didn't."

"It's fine," he said dismissively. "Are you okay?" Something was definitely off.

She lifted her head and nodded. She was avoiding his eyes, something she did often, but he could still see her cheeks had dried streaks of makeup on them.

"I'm sorry. I should've called," she repeated.

"Hey, it's fine," he said urgently. "What's wrong? What happened?" He thought about Browning and his skeeviness. "Did someone hurt you? Do I need to go beat the shit out of someone?"

A sad laugh bubbled up from her chest. At least she smiled.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It's nothing like that."

"You're sure?" he pressed. "I got raptors that love to hunt and eat, so you say the word and I can make someone disappear."

She put her hands to her face. "You can't say that kind of thing to me."

"Why? You going to report me?"

"I might take you up on it," she countered. She leaned back in her chair and turned to face him.

He leaned his crossed forearms against the door and snuck a peek at the party. No one was obviously interested in the two of them. "So, what are you doing here, then?"

"I had a really, really bad day," she explained sadly. "One of my worst. And I just thought..." She sighed and he couldn't tell if it was because she was upset or annoyed. "I didn't want to be alone but I didn't want to be with anyone either."

"Is this a 'you want me to make you scream' sort of thing?" he asked cautiously.

She hesitated before reaching out and grabbing his arm. "It's more of a 'I want you to make me forget' thing."

He eyed her sympathetically. "What about Browning?"

She shook her head and removed her hand. "Nothing happened. We went out a couple more times, but... He wasn't what I wanted."

He kept his mouth shut and his damned hopes down at her words. He didn't want to look too far into what she'd said. She did not say that _he_ was what she wanted. Not in that way. They only had sex, nothing more. Just really great, fantastic, remember-it-for-the-rest-of-your-life, S-E-X, _sex_. He would _not_ delude himself into thinking it was more.

"Oh! What about you?" she asked, cringing. "I forgot you were seeing someone."

He shrugged. "Nah, we called it off. She's shipping out again with the Army in a month. She didn't want to start something we couldn't finish."

Claire nodded, distractedly, it seemed. "Listen, I know this is a bad time." She waved a hand at the party going on without him. "And if you're still hung up on this other woman, or if you're not up for it, it's fine. It's perfectly fine. Actually" - she was talking very fast now - "it's probably for the best. I should just get going."

"Claire," he called softly, smiling.

She sat up straighter and leaned forward to grab at the keys still resting in the ignition. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. Enjoy your party."

"Claire!" he said a little louder. She halted but wouldn't turn to him. "I said I'd always be around if you needed me. You've said before that I'm a man of my word. And I am."

He pulled his cell from the pocket of his board shorts.

"Hey, Bar," he said as his friend picked up the line. "I need you to do something for me and I need you to never ask me any questions about it."

" _You seriously overestimate my commitment to you, my friend._ "

"Alright, do this and I'll work three nights for you whenever you ask," he bargained.

" _What do you need?_ " Barry asked, sounding much more interested.

"I need you to make sure these people don't burn my place down tonight."

" _What do you mean? Are you leaving?_ "

Claire was eyeing him warily as he paced by her car.

"I said no questions, man."

" _Alright_ ," he conceded. " _What should I tell people if they ask where you went?_ "

"Tell them I had to go check on the girls," he offered. "I gotta go."

He hung up without waiting for a goodbye. "My night just opened up," he told Claire who fought a smile. He jogged lightly around the front of her car and climbed into the passenger's seat.

She made a sound of disgust. " _Board shorts?_ As if my day hadn't been bad enough."

"Don't worry," he said with a wink. "They're coming off."

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 **Please review! I'm dying for some feedback!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for reviewing and adding this story as a favorite!**

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"I guess..." She trailed off, thinking something over. "I guess we should go to my place," she said finally. She drove her car slowly along the long dirt path that lead away from his bungalow.

He heard her uneasiness, her hesitation. "Well, the paddock will have the night shift working. I could probably sneak into my office without anyone seeing us, though," he offered. "Or we could go park somewhere." He turned to look around the back seat of the car. "I'm sure these seat fold down."

"We're _not_ having sex in my car," she said, horrified.

He threw up his hands in surrender. "Just a suggestion," he said. "How is my office better than your car?"

"It's not," she agreed. "I'd just..." They pulled to a slow stop at a fork in the road. "We can just go to my place," she said, determined. "It's fine." She turned towards the right and stepped down a little harder on the gas.

She lived in the residential building on the backlot, away from the tourists' eyes. There were fourteen floors and she shared the top with two other high level executives, one of which didn't live there full time. In comparison to his house, her apartment was massive. His entire trailer could have fit in her living room. And it was full of whites and creams.

He wasn't given a tour. After locking the dead bolt behind him, she walked slowly around to stand before him. She eyed him carefully before letting her gaze fall to his shirt, which she grabbed by the hem and tugged up his chest.

He wanted to say something, a quick-witted remark about the cleanliness of her place, the monochromatic color scheme, anything to break the silence, but there was something about her movements, the air she was giving off, that kept his mouth shut.

He pulled his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor, smirking. He figured that might annoy her but it didn't seem to phase her as she ran her hands over his chest and down his stomach. He bent his neck to capture her lips. He expected the quick spark of passion, of heat, the way it normally was with them; the fast movements, the harsh grabs of skin and muscle, loud pants, the anticipation too much for either of them. But she kissed him slow and her hands stilled on his torso before slowly creeping up the lace together behind his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body to his. He could do slow. He'd love to do slow with her. She stood up onto her toes, which gave his craned neck a break, and pushed her chest into his as her tongue entered his mouth.

God, she was sexy. He could easily do this the rest of the night. And the next night. And the night after that. Her body felt amazing under his hands. Her slim waist, the soft curve of her hips and backside, the way the tight muscles in her back seemed to relax under his fingers...

He was pulled from his thoughts by the feeling of something wet on his cheek. He pulled back from her. Her eyes were closed and her jaw tightened. He brought a hand up to her face and touched the moisture he saw there. Her eyes opened - they were turning red and tear-brimmed. She stared at him and just as he was about to ask her what was wrong, she pulled away from him and quickly wiped at her eyes.

"Come on," she said softly. She grabbed his hand and lead him through her living room and down a short hallway to her bedroom.

The bed itself was huge. He had a small double back at his place; he couldn't believe she'd rather have sex on that minuscule thing when she had this behemoth available to her. Again, everything was white and cream colored save for one throw across a wing-backed chair in the corner that was a deep blue.

She stood at the foot of the bed, silent, and apparently waiting for him.

"You're sure you want to do this?" he asked, wary of her tears.

"Of course I'm sure," she said like it was obvious and was confused as to how he could possibly think otherwise.

She gasped quietly and seemed to hesitate as he came to stand in front of her. "I need-" she said, cutting herself off short.

"Yeah, I know," he said. She wanted it slow. She didn't want it wild, she wanted it controlled.

He unbuttoned her blouse as he kissed her. He tried to make sure all his movements were fluid, nothing sudden - like he often did with the raptors. She made work of his board shorts, pushing them down his legs, and then removed her own pants. Pulling her closer, he reach down, wrapping his hands around the backs of her thighs, and lifted her. She gripped his hips between her legs and reached behind her with one hand to unclasp her bra as he walked them around to the side of her bed. He let out a small sigh has the skin of her breasts touched his chest.

He did go slow - he tried to be gentle and delicate. It wasn't his normal style but she wanted it like that and it was a nice change of pace for them. He kissed and touched her body like he worshipped her. She truly was something to be admired. Every move he made with her was decided upon, deliberate, controlled until his movements _couldn't_ be controlled - until they were both losing themselves in each other.

He first slid into her after watching her come under his fingers. He was eager after that. He loved watching her get off. But he still moved slowly. His thrusts were deep and the pace was easy. She stretched her arms up from beneath him and her body and walls tightened around him. She seemed almost tired. But her head would tilt back or to the side with a long drag of breath and he watched her hands grip at the sheets.

At some point, his body hunched over and he was grabbing at her hips and waist as he moved within her. He could feel everything. The tightness, the warmth, and soft texture and slickness of her walls. She felt amazing. It made him feel amazing. He planted kisses across her chest as he clung to her, desperate to keep that feeling and sensation for as long as possible.

Her gasp drew his attention and he felt her contract around him as she came.

" _Shit_ ," he muttered as he felt himself losing his control. "God damn, Claire." He lowered himself so his chest was nearly resting on hers. His battle was over, though. As soon as she pressed her lips to the skin of his shoulder he was done.

He stayed sheathed within her, as far as both their bodies could accommodate.

"I think tonight's the first time you've called me Claire," she mused tiredly as he procrastinated separating from her.

"What?" he panted.

"Usually you call me 'Dearing' or you use my full name," she explained. "You've been calling me Claire, tonight."

He raised his head from the pillow and gazed at her. "You're amazing," he said. He kissed her quickly. "You're so fucking amazing."

She smiled briefly before her expression turned somber and she glanced away. Sensitive to her mood, he pulled away from her. He felt a chill as the heat from her body left him. She must have felt it too, because she pulled a quilt, folded at the foot of her bed, up to her chest. Or maybe she was just being modest again.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong with you?" he asked as he walked into the ensuite bath to dispose of their protection. She didn't answer but was sitting up, the quilt tucked around under her arms, and watching him as he reentered the room. He sat on the edge of the bed. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"My, uh" - she gave a shuttering sigh and her face turned red as her eyes filled with tears again. "My mom passed away," she choked out just before her tears spilled over and down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands and fell back onto the pillows.

"Hey," he called to her softly. He crawled along the bed until he was by her side. Not sure how to best comfort her, he rubbed a hand along her arm. "I'm sorry, Claire."

She sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. "It's fine. I'm fine." She ran her fingers under her bottom lid to erase most of the black smudges that had settled there from her makeup.

He watched as she collected herself. She sat back up and left the bed, grabbing a robe from her closet and quickly covering herself. "We weren't even that close. It's fine," she deflected.

"It's still your mom, Claire," he said quietly.

"God, _stop_ calling me that!" she snapped. "Call me 'Dearing' - like normal."

"I thought you liked me calling you 'Claire,'" he explained, his tone becoming harsher to match hers.

"Well, I don't."

"Okay, then I won't."

She huffed and began tapping her foot with her hands on her hips.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked. He pulled the quilt to cover his exposed lap as he sat on the bed.

"No," she admitted finally. "Not yet." She sighed and sat back down next to him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," he deflected. "You had a sucky day. You get to be mean." He gave her a wry look at his teasing and nudged her arm with his.

"I was on the phone with my sister all morning. She wants me to fly back home to help her deal with all the arrangements but..." She sighed heavily again. "It's our busiest season, and I know it's my mom, but it's also my career and like I said, we weren't really close." She was speed talking now. "She didn't approve of my career. She didn't approve of me moving so far away. She always gave me such a hard time for missing holidays because I had to work. And I just feel like there's really no reason for me to go back."

"What about to help your sister?" he asked.

"I offered to pay for everything. Mom had life insurance, but I'm sure that won't cover everything."

"No, I don't mean like that," he said. "Maybe she needs some emotional support, you know?"

"She knows she can call me," she said easily.

"Some people want that kind of support in person. Kind of like how you didn't want to be alone tonight," he pointed out knowingly.

She eyed him shrewdly before rolling her eyes. "Yeah, I guess. I also didn't really want to talk about this, and yet..."

He smiled. "Alright, we won't talk about it," he agreed.

"I'm sorry for taking you away from your party," she said after a moment of silence.

"Don't be," he said we a shrug and a wink. "I had way more fun here."

She smirked and looked down at her hands. "That woman you were seeing...when is she leaving?"

"She said in about a month," he answered.

"Are you okay with her leaving?"

He looked at her strangely. "I don't know how to answer that," he admitted with a chuckle. "I'm not so upset that she's leaving. I get why she's going - she's doesn't feel like she's done. That's fine. That's common. But I am...worried about her, I guess."

"Do you ever want to go back?"

He shook his head. "No, I feel like I've done my time. Plus, now I have the raptors; I'm happy with where I am now."

"I'd like to see your progress with them one day," she said. "I've heard good things."

He smiled. "Good things, huh?"

She nodded. "And I did hear two of them aren't doing so well, lately."

His smile faded. "Delta and Echo," he replied. "They haven't been able to shake some bug. How did you hear about it?"

She shrugged and laid back on her side, her head propped up and resting on her hand. "I'm made aware of any issues regarding the assets."

He mentally cringed at the insensitive term she used. "Well, Echo's actually doing a lot better," he said. "A few more days and I think she'll be back to normal. You know, these vets are working with animals they couldn't study when they were in school. There's no way for them to have fully accurate-"

"Owen," she interrupted him. "It's okay. You don't have to get so defensive." She placed her hand on his arm to calm him. "Assets get sick. It happens. It's actually good that they do - we learn more about them that way."

"Yeah," he agreed tensely. He grabbed a pillow, shoved it behind him, and leaned back against the headboard. "I know." He crossed his arms over his chest.

He could tell she was smiling out of the corner of his eye. He felt her hand on his side. "What happened here?"

He looked down and saw her fingers were outlining a scar. "Knife," he answered simply.

" _Knife?_ " she asked incredulously.

He nodded, smiling. "Yeah. I was seventeen and these kids from my school tried to steal my car while I was at work, but I caught them doing it. So one of them pulled a knife and I charged at him."

"You charged a man with a knife?" she asked, almost yelling.

"He was a kid, not a man. Plus, I was on the football team and he was just some skinny punk. I figured I could take him."

"So what happened?" she asked, enthralled.

"He stabbed me," he answered dumbly. "It wasn't anything serious but they all freaked out when they saw blood and ran."

"Did they get arrested?"

"No, I didn't tell anyone what had happened. I drove myself to the hospital and said it was an accident at work."

"So they got away with it?"

"Not exactly," he admitted with a small smile. "When I saw them at school, I punched the kid with the knife."

Claire chuckled, shaking her head. "What else do you have?" she asked curiously, and a little playfully.

He brought his left leg out from under the quilt; Claire gasped at the many pink scars marring his skin. "These are from the raptors - mostly Charlie. She was a little bitch when she was little."

"The raptors did this to you?" she asked in outrage. "I never heard about this. Why didn't I ever hear about this?" she asked accusingly.

He shrugged. "They were babies. It wasn't life threatening."

"I should have been told," she insisted. She touched the scars lightly, examining them. "How did they do this?"

"They'd scratch and bite at my legs for attention. _Literal_ ankle-biters. When they got a little bigger, they started climbing up my clothes." He turned his back to her. "I don't know if you'll still be able to see them, but I used to have a lot of little scars across my back from them doing that."

Her hands danced across his shoulders and lower back as she searched for his old wounds. "Jesus, Owen," she cursed. "Why would you let them do that?"

"They were little," he defended. "And there were four of them."

He turned back to lean against the headboard. "What about you, Dearing? You have any scars?"

She fixed him with a leveled look. "I think you would know by now if I did."

He smiled. "You're right. I probably would."

"Do you need to get back to your party?" she asked.

"I don't _have_ to," he said. "But I can go, if you want me to."

"You don't want to go back?"

"Are you kidding?" He placed his hands behind his head and looked around the room. "I'm in the Queen's Palace. How often am I going to be able to say that?"

She smiled and moved to straddle him. He was surprised, but not unhappy.

"Then we should make this time count, wouldn't you say?"

Her hands slid down his chest - he was really starting to like that feeling. His pulled at the knot keeping her robe closed. She let it fall open, which surprised him, given how shy she normally was. She didn't like him ogling her body.

She leaned forward to lightly kiss his lips. His hands ran under her robe for one to wrap around her back and the other to massage her breasts. Her hands found his growing excitement and began softly sliding up and down his shaft.

He pulled back from her lips, intending on drinking in her form so long as she was letting him.

"Marry me," he said as she continued to stroke him.

"Oh, Mr. Grady," she sighed. "Will you never learn?"

He sat up quickly and kissed her. "Never," he mumbled against her lips.

"There's condoms under the sink in the bathroom," she whispered.

"Yeah. I'm on it," he said, kissing her one last time before she lifted off of him and he ran to find the condoms she promised.

* * *

 **Please review! Thanks again!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for your reviews of the last chapter. Keep them coming!**

* * *

The condom box was open.

He tried really hard not to think about it. It shouldn't get to him, he knew that. But it in the back of his mind, it nagged at him. She'd been on dates since they started this...whatever it was. It was entirely possible she'd brought another man up to her apartment. It was plausible, even - probable, perhaps. She was beautiful, and smart, and on the few occasions she'd opened up around him, he noticed she had a pretty good sense of humor about her. So of course she had other men in her life. He _knew_ that.

It still bothered him, though.

She'd fallen asleep after their second round - not immediately. She had enough time to wash up and tell him he could stay over since it was so late and she didn't want to drive him back to his bungalow. But she fell asleep soon after that.

He was exhausted but couldn't sleep. Being in her bed felt strange to him. And his mind kept trailing back to that open box of condoms under her bathroom sink. Also, his boards shorts weren't that comfortable to sleep in.

He texted Barry around four in the morning asking for another favor, and by the time Claire's alarm went off at five, he was ready to leave.

"What are you doing?" she asked groggily as she sat up on the edge of her bed.

"Barry's picking me up," he explained quietly. At her surprised look, he added, "Don't worry, he doesn't know about you. I'm going to meet him at the Starbucks across the street."

She nodded and rubbed at her eyes before standing. "I need to start getting ready."

"Sure. I can see myself out," he said. He started walking out her bedroom, towards the door. "I'll see you later."

"Owen," she called after him. He turned around and saw her following him, now wearing her robe again and folding her arms over her chest. "I just wanted to say thank you. For last night. For listening," she clarified uneasily.

He nodded curtly. "Yeah, of course." She smiled kindly, her nerves dissipating. "I'm really sorry about your mom, Claire."

He watched as she swallowed a lump in her throat. "It's 'Dearing' to you, Grady."

He smirked. "Of course it is."

She walked him to the door and softly told him goodbye.

...

"What's it mean when a woman has an open box of condoms in her bathroom?" he mused as Barry drove them to the raptor paddock.

His friend glanced at him quickly, surprised, and then looked back at the road. "It means she's a woman who's prepared," he said finally. "So Stacy's out of the picture, then?" he asked when Owen didn't respond.

"Yeah, I guess."

"How long have you been seeing this other one?"

"I don't know," he deflected. "It's complicated."

He didn't have to look at Barry to know he was rolling his eyes at him. "And you won't tell me who it is?"

Owen shook his head. "No. It's a casual thing and she doesn't want it getting out," he explained.

"If it's so casual, why do you care if her box of condoms is opened or closed?"

"Shut up, Barry," he grumbled at his knowing tone.

...

He had to talk himself into it, but eventually Owen made his way to the Control building. In the elevator, he started to second guess himself. But he grit his teeth and decided to roll with the punches.

"Hey," he greeted Zara quietly at her desk. "Is Dearing in?" He pointed to the closed door of her office.

"Did you have a meeting with her?" she asked, her tone a bit panicked.

"No," he assured her. "I just wanted to ask her something."

Zara looked back up to him and smiled. "Are you asking her out?" she whispered excitedly.

Owen smiled back and leaned forward, resting his hands on her desk. "Why so interested?" he said, mimicking her hushed voice.

"Aren't you supposed to be seeing someone?" she inquired, ignoring his question. "That's why you weren't interested in my friend."

"Why are you trying to set me up, huh? Are you that bored here?"

Zara shrugged and leaned back causally in her desk chair. "Perhaps I'm simply looking for a way to repay you for helping me."

"You realize all I did was make a phone call, right?" He didn't want to tell her that she had unwittingly provided him with the greatest phone number he'd ever been in possession of.

"Mr. Grady?" Claire called hesitantly from behind him.

He turned to her quickly with an easy smile. "Hey."

"Can I help you with something?" she asked coldly.

He was expecting cold. He'd caught her off guard.

"I wanted to see if you were free for lunch," he began confidently. "I wanted to go over a few things with you about the raptors." He smiled charmingly through his lie.

Her eyes narrowed as she regarded him. "If you'd like to make a meeting, you should be making an appointment with my assistant."

"I figured you could make an exception," he said knowingly, "considering I never ask for meetings with you."

"You've asked," she quipped under her breath. She walked the few steps to her door. "Let's talk, Mr. Grady."

Owen turned around and gave Zara a happy wink before following her into the office.

"You shouldn't be here," Claire hissed when he shut the door behind him.

"I just thought we could have lunch," he said defensively, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

" _Really?_ " she said, disbelieving. "You're sure it didn't have anything to do with your libido?"

He took a disgruntled step forward. "I'm not here for sex," he argued quietly. "I'm here because your mom passed away three days ago and I thought I'd check in to see how you were doing."

Her brow furrowed in frustrated confusion. "I'm fine. I told you that."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, of course you are. How could I forget." He shook his head slightly. "And if I wanted sex, I wouldn't just show up here. I'm sure you have a very strict no sex policy about your office. It's your sacred ground, isn't it?"

"Why would you think I would be okay having lunch with you?"

He scoffed, ignoring the sting of pain in his chest. "I just know you're going through a hard time right now. I thought you could use a friend."

"We're not _friends_ ," she said with a grimace. "It's just sex, Owen."

He laughed viciously. "Wow," he said. "God, I don't know why I even tried. You know what? You're right. We're not friends. So let's just make this even simpler. If we ever have sex again - and I know that's completely your call, because who the fuck cares if and when I want it, right? - let's not talk. No words. No staying the night. Just a quick fuck and then you leave. Sound good?" he asked harshly. He didn't wait for her answer and turned around, exiting the office in a huff. He slammed the door behind him and ignored Zara as he walked away.

...

He was surprised to see Claire's car pull up his drive a week later as he sat on his porch drinking a beer and waiting for his laundry to get done. He didn't stand when she approached, still annoyed with the conversation they'd had last. They hadn't spoken since he stormed out of her office. Part of him had thought they were finished with each other. The other part had a feeling they weren't.

She didn't say anything either as she stood on the ground by the steps of the shed's porch. She waited patiently, avoiding his eyes as usual, with her hands folded in front of her. He thought about berating her for not letting him know she was coming over, like he'd told her to months ago now, but he didn't want to be the one to break the silence.

He stood after a minute or so of letting her sweat, and sauntered down the steps, pausing to eye her carefully, and then moved past her to the door of his trailer. She followed behind him.

He left the empty beer bottle on the kitchen counter just inside the door and made his way to his bedroom. He heard her shut and lock the door behind them. He took off his shirt and tossed it on his dresser. When he turned back to see her, she was standing in the doorway, watching him but not removing her own clothes.

He only hesitated for a moment before unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down his legs. He hated to admit to the reaction his body had just from the anticipation of being with her again. That was the problem with their current situation - his body was becoming conditioned to respond a certain way just from the sight of her.

She crept forward into the room as he stood, naked and waiting for her. Rather than undressing, she stood before him and let her hands travel along his chest and arms. With a determined glint in her eye, she pushed on him lightly, getting him to sit on the edge of the bed. Slowly, she began loosening the buttons on her shirt and then slid the shiny satin material down her arms. Her light purple bra matched the underwear he was able to see once she divested of her skirt as well.

She surprised him again by kneeling on the floor between his legs rather than climbing onto his lap. He bit his tongue, still not willing to speak. Her hands ran up his thighs until they gripped his member. He closed his eyes when he felt her lips touch his tip.

Everything sort of felt hazy from there. Hazy and fantastic. And wet and searing hot. Her tongue was like a flame licking at his shaft as she took him deeper in her mouth. He leaned back on his hands and watched her work him. He watched himself, wet with her saliva, disappear and reappear from her mouth as she bobbed over him. She glanced up, her stare locking with his as her hands gripped his base, her mouth full of him as she gently sucked and he knew he was done. He knew he'd be chasing her down for this sort of action for a very long time.

He was getting close but he still didn't speak. He tried to warn her nonverbally by making his pants louder and pumping his hips slightly in time with her bobs. That only seemed to make her more eager. Her sucking got strong and longer, her teeth would lightly graze him sending jolts through his body, and her tongue lapped arduously at the underside of his tip. When he was dangerously close to spilling over, he grabbed at her shoulder and pushed lightly at her, hoping she'd get the picture. But she grabbed his hand in response and laced her fingers with his, squeezing minutely.

He wasn't able to hold back any longer and came with a shuddering groan. She massaged him with her free hand as his orgasm played out. The pressure of her lips and tongue lightened and she pulled away after a moment.

He fell back onto the bed with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. He could hear her shuffling around, but he didn't have the energy to peek and see what she was doing until a few minutes later he felt something very cold resting on top of his knee. She was balancing a glass of water there to get his attention, which worked. She offered him the glass and when he took it, she turned back, collecting her clothes from the floor. Just as slowly as she undressed, she put them back on, standing in front of him and staring at him as he sipped from the glass she'd given him. When she was dressed, she took the glass from him and took a few sips for herself before turning to leave.

He grabbed his pants, pulling them up quickly and following her out. She finished off the drink and placed the glass in his sink. He opened the door for her and walked out and over to his shed without a word, still feeling stubborn even though she'd come over apparently just for his pleasure. He only turned to look at her after she cleared her throat loudly.

"Good night," she said clearly and confidently. He nodded and she made her way back to her car. He smirked once her back was to him.

...

After a shower and another beer, he picked up his phone and found her number.

 **Marry me** , he said. He still couldn't get the image of her looking up at him with his dick in her mouth out of his head.

 **He's back!**

He fought a smile. **Did you miss me?**

 **Terribly. Did you like my apology?**

 **Best damn apology I've ever had. You can apologize to me like that any time you want.**

 **So we're ok now?**

He hesitated. Were they okay? He'd been pretty upset - and a little hurt, but whatever - with her for saying they weren't friends. No, they didn't hang out unless sex was involved. And they didn't know a whole lot about each other, but he felt like they were on friendly terms at the very least. He liked seeing her - and he felt like it had more to do with than just the awesome sex. She was easy enough to talk to when she was relaxed, and she was always quick with a witty response which is fun.

But apparently she didn't see them as friends. She didn't see him as someone she could rely on. And that bothered him. It really did. But what could he do about it other than prove his value over time? So yeah, he supposed they were good - or at least as good as they could be.

 **Yeah. We're ok.**

 **Good.**

He climbed into his bed, thinking that was the end to their conversation, but she sent him another message ten minutes later.

 **Do you still want to keep the No Talking rule?**

 **Nice capitalization.** He said with a smile. Leave it to her to make things proper. **I'll leave that up to you. Whatever you want.**

 **I vote no.** That surprised him a little. He figured she'd appreciate the impersonal-ness of it all. **You seem to enjoy when I tell you to keep fucking me.**

He wanted to laugh, thinking she was teasing him, but her comment brought up memories of her whispered pleas and that turned him on more than it should.

 **You mean when you BEG me not to stop fucking you. Yeah, I do like that. Or when you say my name. That's another turn on.**

 **I do not beg.** Her stubbornness was cute.

 **Oh, you beg. But I like it. I like it almost as much as I like that you can't seem to stay away from me.**

That was a dangerous ploy. Pointing that out would probably make her defensive and pull away from him again. But it was true, he liked that she was drawn to him and wanted him like she did. And honesty was the best policy, right?

 **You know, you're pretty vocal too sometimes. And you beg. Actually, you beg more than I do. The difference is that you beg for me when I'm not around and I beg when you suddenly stop when we're together.**

He sighed in relief that she took it well.

 **And I'll keep begging until we're either doing this everyday or we get married to other people.**

 **We will never do this every day.**

 **Then I'll keep begging until you're with someone else.**

 **I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mr. Grady.**

 **And I appreciate your very talented mouth, Miss Dearing.**

 **Just don't forget that now you owe me one.**

He smiled again. **You tell me when and where. You know I'll be there.**

* * *

 **Thank you for reading. Now please go review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the long wait! Without further ado...**

* * *

He was surprised when her name popped up on his caller ID. She'd never called him before, only texted.

"Hello?" he answered trepidatiously. Technically, it was an unexpected call from his boss.

" _This is your fault, you know,_ " she said unkindly.

"What's my fault?" He walked slowly along the bridge as the girls played below him.

" _I took your advice and spent a few days with my sister to help her out with the funeral arrangements,_ " she said haughtily.

"Uh huh."

" _And now, she wants to plan a trip down here for her and her family_."

He smiled at how annoyed she sounded. "That sounds nice."

" _No! It's not_ ," she replied. " _Her kids hate me. Her husband is annoying. And_ she _is overbearing. I_ had _separated myself from them. I had broken free. But, thanks to you, now I'm all tangled up with them again._ "

He held back his chuckle. "Why are you telling me this?"

" _Because it's your fault!_ " she yelled shrilly. " _And also,_ " she continued slowly, " _I'm trying._ "

"Trying what?"

" _This whole...you know...friendship, thing._ "

It was hard to control his smile. Thankfully Blue was looking up at him and chattering quietly so to anyone watching, it would look like he was smiling at her.

"Good. I'm proud of you," he said.

She cleared her throat. " _I think you owe me an apology._ "

He laughed. "Okay. Sure. I'm sorry."

" _Not the kind of apology I was looking for,_ " she said smoothly.

"Oh, I know what kind of apology you're looking for. But tonight's not good for me. It's Barry's birthday. We're going out with some friends."

" _How about tomorrow?_ "

"Sure. Sounds good," he said. He decided to press harder. "If you come over right after work I could make us some dinner, too."

There was a long pause. " _You want to make me dinner?_ "

"I'm making myself dinner either way," he said casually. Keeping it casual, that was the key. "I'm inviting you to join me. It's part of that friendship thing you were talking about earlier. But you don't have to accept."

" _Isn't there a rule about eating before sex?_ "

"Only if we're having sex in a pool."

" _Oh, right,_ " she said, and he happily noted she sounded like she was smiling. " _What are you thinking of making?_ "

"I don't know. Burgers, maybe?"

She grumbled in disgust. " _No thanks_."

He laughed. "I can make something else."

" _No, don't worry about it,_ " she said. " _Maybe I'll join you another time._ "

"Yeah, alright. Swing by when I'm making filet mignon or something fancy," he joked.

" _I have to take baby steps, you know? This kind of friendship is new to me. Also-_ " She cut off suddenly.

"Also, what?" he pried.

" _Dinner and then sex?_ " she questioned. " _I'm not an expert, but I'd say that's a date._ "

"I wasn't asking you for a date," he said laughing.

" _I'm not taking any chances. You're not going to trick me into dating you, Grady._ "

"Well, there goes my master plan."

" _I'm sure._ " She sighed. " _There's really no way for you to meet me tonight?_ "

"Not unless you're okay with a quickie in a bathroom stall at the sports bar we're going to."

Barry waved to him from the platform by the stairs. Owen nodded to him and crept his way along the bridge towards his friend.

" _No, thank you_ ," she said with great distaste.

"Then you're out of luck," he said sadly. "Sorry, sweetheart."

" _You can't make any time for me, Grady?_ " she asked in a dangerously sweet voice. " _Not even if I promised another apology?_ "

He smiled. "Don't tease me, woman. I'm about to be in ear shot of the birthday boy, by the way, so I should probably go."

" _What if I begged?_ " she asked. " _You like it when I beg, don't you?_ "

"I love it when you beg," he said.

" _I'm begging you, Grady_ ," she said in a breathless voice. " _I need you. Please_."

Barry shouted to him as he was all but crawling on the bridge. "Who are you talking to?"

"My mother," he lied.

" _Your mother?_ " Claire asked. " _How very Freudian of you_."

"Have you stopped your teasing?" he asked.

She hummed. " _Not quite. Keep your phone on you tonight."_

"Why?" he asked cautiously - not that he didn't always have his phone on him anyway. Who didn't these days?

" _I might send you some texts_ ," she commented idly.

"Pictures?"

" _If you're nice_."

"I'm always nice."

" _I might beg some more, too_ ," she said.

"About how much you want my body?" he asked cheekily.

" _About how much my body misses your tongue._ "

"Just my tongue, huh?"

" _No, not just_."

He was finally standing in front of a curious and annoyed Barry. "Alright, I got to go, _Mom_."

" _Remember to keep your phone on you._ "

...

She didn't wait long before texting him. Towards the end of his work day, he had already received two very flattering text from her regarding his ability to be "so deep" inside of her.

 **Just got out of the shower. I guess you could have come over and joined me in there** , he texted just to taunt her.

 **Damn it, Grady. What were you thinking? I could have been on my knees in that shower giving you another apology.**

He laughed quietly as he dried off and found a change of clothes.

 **And now I'm putting clothes ON. This just doesn't seem right. You should be here talking clothes off of me.**

 **Or drying you off from your shower** , she said. **You could take me on your bathroom counter.**

 **I don't know what the hell has gotten into you** , he texted her, smiling and shaking his head. **But whatever it is, I like it.**

 **You. You've gotten into me. Quite a few times, actually. And it's been a pleasure every time.**

 **So you're not like this with the other men in your life?**

He realized he was holding his breath as he waited for her reply, which seemed to be taking longer than her other texts. He wasn't sure why he felt like he needed to know if he was the only one she was currently having this sort of affair with. They'd never made any deal about being exclusive and he knew she'd been on some dates - like with Browning, for instance, but that was when they hadn't met for a few months.

 **Do you really want to talk about what I may or may not do with other men when we could be talking about what I want to do with you?** she asked evasively. **Like how I want to wrap my legs around you and feel your hands on my waist.** No one could say she wasn't good at distractions.

 **Now, let me get the full picture, here** , he said as he left his trailer. **Am I already inside you at this point?**

 **No, but I'm sitting on your lap and I've got you in my hand.**

 **Nice. I'm about to get on my bike and ride over to the bar so I won't be able to talk. But you keep sending the play-by-play of this fantasy you've got going on and I'll see what I can do about making it come true.**

She didn't immediately respond and he was already running a little late so he quickly stashed his phone in his pocket and straddled his bike. He was sure it was just his imagination as he drove to the sports bar, but it felt like his phone was vibrating against his leg every few seconds. When he got off his bike and walked to the bar, he checked and saw he only had three missed messages from her.

 **You better drive safe on that death trap. I will be so mad if you die before fucking me at least one more time** , was the first text.

 **This is absolutely ridiculous, you know. I don't know why I'm even wasting my time texting you these things when I know I'm not seeing you until tomorrow anyway. I should just take a sleeping pill and go to bed. Or maybe I should just call another willing guy... There's bound to be SOMEONE on this island who's free tonight** , was the second; and he didn't like the flare of jealousy he felt at what he read.

The third was a little more fun for him: **I do not think it's fair that the last time we were together YOU were the only one to come. I realize that you had been mad at me and that I was essentially apologizing for upsetting you, but still. You could have returned the favor. Maybe then I wouldn't feel like I was going out of my mind thinking about your head between my thighs, and your tongue and your fingers and my hands in your hair and your hands on my hips and breasts.**

 **You know I'd have you in my bed right now if I could** , he texted her when he spotted Barry at the bar with a small group of friends.

 **You said you'd always be available when I needed you. I. Need. You.**

He smirked and his his phone in his pocket for the time being as he greeted his friends and ordered a beer.

"I've got your next round," he told Barry who held up his bottle in thanks.

"Glad you could make it," he said over the loud chatter and music. Owen gave him a strange look, unsure of what his tone was supposed to mean. "I didn't know if maybe your new mysterious lady friend would have you busy tonight."

Owen gave him a sly look and quickly peeked at those around them to see if anyone was listening. "Are you ever going to let that go?"

Barry shook his head. "I'm curious as to who had you calling for a transport at five o'clock in the morning."

"It's was one time, man," Owen argued. "And I bought you breakfast to make up for it."

"You left your own party to be with her. She's either something very special or she just has your wrapped around her finger."

He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket but he refused to look at it while Barry was being so inquisitive.

"Are you still seeing her?"

Owen nodded and took a long chug from his beer. "I might need something stronger if you're going to keep asking me about her."

"Sure!" he agreed enthusiastically. "Let's get you drunk. Maybe then I'll get some real answers out of you."

"Can't you just enjoy your birthday like a normal person?" Owen teased.

The crowd around them broke into a ruckus cheer at something happening during the soccer game playing on the television that they weren't paying attention to. Barry, being interested in the sport, had his attention drawn away long enough that Owen felt safe to peek at his phone.

 **I want you on top and inside of me.**

 **You've got a perfectly good set of fingers, hon. Use your imagination.**

He locked the phone's screen and shoved it back in his pocket before anyone noticed. He wondered if she'd take offense to his suggestion. He also wondered if she'd follow through on it.

He took another long swig of his beer. He was already feeling a little hot under the collar and the alcohol wouldn't help him get cooler but it might help numb his mind so he wouldn't be so preoccupied thinking about Claire masturbating. He jumped into a conversation with some of his friends to distract himself and bought Barry another beer when he was ready. Eventually he pulled far enough away from his group, sitting a few stools down on the bar and pulled out his phone again.

 **Next time you want me, I'm going to tell you to use your hand and you tell me if that makes you feel better.**

 **But did you use your hand or not?** He questioned.

 **Not.**

 **Do it.**

 **No.**

 **It'll help.**

 **Oh my God. I can't talk to you about this.**

 **But you can talk about wanting me to tongue-fuck you?**

"Who are you texting?" Barry asked jeeringly, suddenly at his side and clapping him on the back.

" _Jesus Christ_ , Bar," Owen said, startled.

"Girlfriend?" he asked.

Owen shook his head. "She's not my girlfriend."

"I saw the name." Owen froze and stared wide-eyed at his friend. "Well, I saw part of the name," he admitted. "I saw a 'C' and an 'A.' Cathy?" He guessed. "Cara? Carly? Cameron?"

Owen smiled and shook his head, looking at his beer bottle. "I should probably save her number under a different name."

"How about 'Master'?"

"I'm really not that whipped, you know."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Am I with her tonight?" he challenged.

"Not yet," Barry said knowingly.

"No," Owen said, shaking his head. "Not tonight. It's your birthday, so I'm staying here." He took a quick swig. "That's right - I'm giving up sex for you."

Barry smiled and patted his back again. "Don't make any sacrifices for me, my friend. You know I wouldn't do the same for you."

"Ouch," Owen laughed. "I guess I'm just a better friend than you."

"Is she really asking you to meet up with her?"

Owen smiled as he felt his phone buzz with another text. "Yep."

Barry shook his head, grinning. "Something's wrong with you."

He shrugged. "I'm letting her sweat it out. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?"

Another loud cheer from the crowd watching the game erupted and pulled Barry's attention away from his friend. Owen was free to check his phone again.

 **I'm just going to go to sleep** , she said. **Maybe I'll have a nice dream.**

 **I'm telling you, just use your hand. Just pretend it'a mine.**

He knew he could leave the bar and go see her. Barry wouldn't care, really. But he kind of liked putting her off like this. He felt it was important for her to know that he could say no and put his foot down. Also, he really loved that she was as frustrated as she was.

 **Your hand feels better than mine.**

The alcohol was getting to him. He hadn't had that much but he'd been drinking fast.

 **God, I want you** , he sent to her.

 **I want you too.**

 **I want to be buried in you.**

 **I want you on top of me.**

 **I want you riding me** , he countered.

 **I want you to have me against a wall.**

 **I want to have you on my desk again.**

 **I want you to bend me over mine.**

 _Well, shit_ , he thought. He was only getting more and more turned on.

 **We have to stop. It's going to get pretty embarrassing for me soon if we don't.**

 **I'll see you tomorrow. Until then, make sure you think about me all alone. In my bed. Naked. Thinking about all the things we could be doing to each other. All the ways I want you to take me. Getting myself off with my fingers and wishing they were yours.**

She made it very difficult to resist her.

 **Just don't tire yourself out before tomorrow.**

 **Never.**

He smiled and quickly down the rest of his beer before ordering another.

* * *

 **Mostly just flirty, sexy fun. But whatever. Next chapter will be up soon. That's a promise!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone! It's so nice to see you're enjoying this story!**

 **Side note: It's been probably a good ten- _ish_ years since I've seen the first Jurassic Park movie and I honestly don't remember most of it. But I did just read the book and some of what I've written here alludes to what happened in the book - which, again, I can't remember if it happened in the movie. Because I know they changed some things (like who lives, who dies...). I think I explained everything well enough though. Hopefully. **

**Whatever. Just enjoy it.**

* * *

He did not like this. He did not like this at all, he decided, crouching on the ground next to the vet as she and her tech examined Delta who was laying unconscious on the floor of the holding area.

"You're sure you don't want anymore people in there with you?" Hoskins asked from behind the gate. "If she starts to wake up she's gonna rip you in two, doc."

"She's heavily sedated," the vet answered in quiet exasperation. Hoskins hit on her every time she was there. "We'll be fine."

Owen glanced up as he heard a car pulling up to the paddock. It was the increasingly familiar white Mercedes. Claire stepped out of the vehicle and quickly mussed with her hair, looking through the bars of the gate in concern as she made her way towards them.

"What happened?" she asked when was standing next to Hoskins, ACU guards made a path for her and then filed back into their protective positions.

"Little birdie, here, has the sniffles," Hoskins answered.

"She's still sick?" she asked curiously.

Owen glanced at her again from inside the cage. The vet stood as her tech listened closely to Delta's abdominal area with a stethoscope, and walked around her horizontal body to her head.

"Will you help me with her mouth?" she asked Owen softly. The ACU guard inside the cage with them tensed and shifted his stun gun a little higher in his hands.

"Mr. Grady," Claire said sternly and suddenly as Owen was reaching for Delta's jaw. "I wanted a word with you."

"I'm a little busy," he said. He helped the vet open Delta's mouth and she quickly swapped inside for saliva.

"Nothing like carnivore breath in the morning," she said with scrunched nose. Owen chuckled and slowly let Delta's head rest on the mulched ground again. The ACU guard relaxed behind him.

"Owen," Barry said, approaching the gate. "The others are getting restless in their pens."

"We could let them chase a pig," Hoskins suggested.

Owen shook his head. "They won't care about the pig with all these people around."

"We're almost done here," the vet assured them. "We'll just take some blood and get out of here."

Owen placed his hands on the raptor's upper torso, carefully avoiding the right hand that twitched while she slept. With his hands touching her, he could feel her erratic pulse and if she began to wake, he'd feel her body tensing before she fully regained consciousness, which might buy them some time to sedate her again.

There was a loud clanging noise and Barry and a handful of ACU ran off in the direction of the pens where the other raptors were being held.

"Today's really not a good day, Dearing," he said. "Can we reschedule?"

He saw her nodding vaguely from the corner of his eye as she watched the vet and tech draw blood from a vein in Delta's hindquarters. "I'd like to stay," she said, "to at least hear the prognosis."

The vet, with her back to the gate, glanced up at Owen. He knew from their previous encounters that she wasn't too fond of the suits in charge. She was a purist, in a way - she hated that the animals were looked at like assets and numbers on spread sheets.

"Sure thing, Miss Dearing," she answered politely, though her expression was tight. "We should check on the others first. Make sure they haven't hurt themselves."

Owen ran his hand over Delta's head as they polished off the vials of blood. "You'll be alright, girl," he told her quietly.

"How do you get her back with the others?" Claire asked curiously as he stood.

"We'll pull her into the paddock and wait until she wakes up to let the others in there with her," he answered.

"That might not happen this time, Chief," Hoskins said and they heard shouts and more clanging from the pens.

"Alright, everyone out," Owen ordered, waving his hands towards the gate. "We'll leave her in here for now."

One of the guards opened the outside gate for the four of them to exit, leaving the sleeping raptor on the ground.

Owen paused by Claire as he exited. "Really not a good day for you to be here," he said quietly to her.

"Well, I'm not leaving," she said stubbornly.

There was more clanging and crashing noises, more shouts. "Go wait in my office," he told her.

"Why?"

Because the raptors were going berserk. Because if any of them got loose, it could get ugly fast. Because he didn't want her to see any of that. Because he wanted her safely locked in his office if anything did happen.

"Just do it," he said. He ran away from her without waiting for her response.

When he got in front of the gate to the pens, Blue and Charlie were smacking their tails against the bars and Echo was crying out loudly in frustration. The guards had their stunners drawn and aimed as Barry tried to calm the animals down.

Owen pulled the training clicker from his vest and held up both hands, clicking the device multiple times.

"Alright, eyes on me!" he shouted. "That's enough!" Blue and Charlie stopped their thrashing but began copying their sister's cries.

"They don't like being separated from Delta," Barry muttered, standing next to him.

"You know she's fine," Owen told them, knowing they couldn't really understand him. "You know we're not going to hurt her."

Echo huffed and charged the gate, slamming her body against the bars. Everyone took a trepidatious step backwards.

"They'll hurt themselves if they keep going," the vet said from the back of the group.

Blue leapt up and forward, grabbing the bars with her claws before sliding down, not able to find traction.

"Hey! Cool it!" Owen yelled at them. He turned to a group of paddock techs waiting to assist if needed. "Go get me some rats," he ordered.

As he was turning back to the raptors, he noticed Claire was standing nearby, having completely ignored his request. "Hoskins!" he barked. "Show Dearing to my office."

"I'm not going anywhere," she said firmly.

Hoskins grabbed hold of her arm lightly and tried to gently tug her towards the bunker-like office building. "Come on, hot shot. Let these guys handle the monsters. We've got coffee in there."

" _Owen_ ," she shouted at him. "I'm _not_ leaving."

A tech came running back to the group with a blue bucket full of dead white rats. Owen grabbed one and turned back to the raptors.

"Which one of you is going to shut up first?" he wondered aloud. "Blue?"

Blue snorted and whipped around to smack her tail against the bars again.

"Alright. Charlie?" he asked, moving on and holding the rat higher, like he was prepared to throw it.

Charlie lowered her upper half until her front claws were almost on the ground. She opened her mouth and let out a long, agitated hiss.

"Fine. Echo? Don't disappoint me, girl," he said. He held up his other hand in a closed fist. " _Quiet!_ " he yelled sharply. Blue and Charlie lowered their volume but still growled and chattered. Echo had her head tilted and locked one eye with his.

"She's quiet," Barry said, who was closer to Echo's side of the pen.

"Hold," Owen called and he took a slow step forward. The three raptors responded to the command by freezing, completely halting their cries and movements.

"I knew you'd never let me down," he said to Echo, tossing the rat through the bars. She caught it with ease. The other two raptors, now jealous of her receiving a treat, shuffled towards the bars, anxiously watching Owen.

"Oh, what? You think I'm just going to give you a rat because you're looking at me with those cute raptor eyes?" he taunted with his arms open. Barry snickered and the group behind him seemed to start breathing again. He bent down to pick up another rat. "I'm going to make you work for it now."

He pointed at Blue. "You do _not_ charge the fence like that," he scolded. " _Down!_ " he ordered. Blue huffed in annoyance and bowed her head. "No, no," he said. "All the way. Down, Blue." She growled quietly and bowed even further. "Keep going." Eventually, she laid her stomach on the ground, her limbs still tense. "Good girl." He threw the rat and she leapt impressively fast back onto her feet to catch it.

"Charlie," he said, pointing to the last raptor. "You hissed at me, didn't you?" She waited patiently for her command. "Go. Go to the corner," he said, pointing to the far corner to his right. Her feet dragged in the sandy dirt a few steps in the direction he pointed to and then she stopped, expecting the rat. "Go!" She let out a wail of frustration and spun in a circle. When she was facing him again, she took two steps back. "You better get in that corner," he warned her, still pointing at where he wanted her to go. She quickly scurried to the corner and waited for his next signal. He had her wait there for a few seconds longer since she put up such a fit about it. "Good girl!" he finally called, aiming his throw.

"How do they look, Angie?" Barry called to the vet.

"Like they love their papa," she teased. Owen smiled and glanced back at her. "They look good. Healthy. It doesn't look like they hurt themselves."

"Alright," Owen said, clapping his hands together to get the girls attention again. "You girls be good. You'll see Delta in a bit." He turned to the vet and ACU team. "We don't have much time if we want to get her into the paddock before she wakes. I'll go in with Jones and Jacobs," he said, calling out two of the guards, "and pull her in."

"I want back up on the bridge," the lieutenant yelled out and three guards hustled to the stairs.

He gave Claire a hard glare as he passed her. She didn't even have the decency to look remised.

It took no small effort to pull the fully grown raptor through the secondary gate and into the paddock. Owen and the two other guards (who had refused to leave their guns outside the paddock, making the job even more cumbersome) brought her just a few feet through the gate and Owen gave her a quick once-over before joining the guards in the holding area and letting the bars glide down to secure the area.

Once they were back through the primary gate, Owen made his way to his office, the vet and Claire following behind him.

"You should have waited inside," he grumbled to Claire as they walked.

"I'm responsible for what happens on this island," she retorted. "I wasn't going to be locked away in an office while other people were out here."

He spun around on the spot. " _I_ am responsible for what happens at this paddock! Those are _my_ raptors! _I_ run things here!" He pointed a finger in her face. "You have _no_ power with them! If something had happened-! If they'd broken free-! You have to listen to me out here, Dearing."

She was gaping at his sudden outburst and with a quick look around, he noticed he'd drawn a small crowd. Angie was looking back and forth between the two of them, shocked.

"You were unarmed," he argued in a mildly calmer tone. "It was a 'necessary personnel only' kind of situation. And that didn't include you."

"Everyone on this island is my responsibility," she said strongly. "And that _does_ include you. So if there's a problem, Mr. Grady, I'm going to make sure it gets dealt with. I'm not going to go run and hide."

"A prob- _Really_? A _problem_? Claire, what would you have done if they broke through the gate? Huh?" he asked loudly. "How would you 'make sure that problem got dealt with?'" He didn't give her the chance to respond. "Because you want to know what I think would have happened? You'd be dead. We'd all be dead. Those stunners aren't for our protection, they just make everyone feel better. Those animals are wildly fast. And they're smart and they'll take out who they need to first and then chase down the rest. Now, if that had happened and you'd been in the office you could call for back up. You could make sure the guests on the island are secured and protected. You could close all the fucking gates and roadways while you're at it."

"It didn't happen, Owen," Barry said softly, suddenly next to him. "Calm down, man." He clapped him on the back and turned him towards the offices. "You can't go off like that. You can't say all those things. You know how nervous people get."

He rubbed his hands over his face and tugged at his hair in frustration. His heart was racing and his hands felt numb. Vaguely, he realized the two women were following after them.

Inside his office, he collapsed in his desk chair and watched with disinterest as the other three found places to stand or sit in the small and cluttered room.

"What do you think about Delta?" Barry asked the vet as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"I'll run tests on her fluids to get an idea of her antibody levels," she answered. "The illness is gone, right? No more of that weird wheezing or cough?"

"No," Owen answered. "That stopped about three days ago."

"And she hasn't been throwing up? Her bowel movements are normal?" Barry and Owen nodded. "Then I'd say it's passed like Echo's did, just took a little longer."

"She's still been acting strange though," Owen said. "She's more aggressive than usual and she's sticking close to her sisters."

"She used to be more independent," Barry added. "Now she always wants to be between two of them."

"And how do they react to that?"

"Usually they're okay with it," Owen said. "The only one I've seen get frustrated by it was Charlie. But that was one time." He looked to Barry for confirmation.

Angie hummed and leaned against the wall with her brow furrowed.

"Do you have any idea why that could be?" Claire asked, finally speaking up.

"The way the others acted today when they were separated from her... And there was something strange about her blood work last time..."

"What is it?" Owen asked, worried.

"I almost want to say she's pregnant," she said finally.

There was a pause of complete silence as that was processed by the group.

"But it can't be," Angie continued. "The sex-change issue was corrected years and years ago."

"Sex-change issue?" Barry questioned.

"When they built the original park, the plan was to always have all the dinosaurs be female for population control. But some of the genes they added with the extinct DNA came from amphibians that can change their sex based off the needs of the population. So the animals were breeding without them knowing it. The velociraptors, as I understand it, were particularly problematic."

Owen scoffed. "That sounds like an understatement."

"But they fixed that, like you said," Claire said. "So how could she possibly be pregnant?"

"I don't think she is," the vet clarified. "I think her body is telling her she is."

"A phantom pregnancy?" Barry asked.

Angie shrugged. "It's the best I can come up with right now. I'll check her hormone levels at the lab."

"But why would that effect the way the other ones treat her?" Claire asked.

"Pheromones," Owen answered. "If her body thinks it's pregnant she'll give off the same signals she would if she really was."

"And what little we know about these animals, we _do_ know they were extremely pack-oriented. They were a family unit. So it makes sense her sisters would want to protect her," Angie further explained.

"But for sure, they're all still female, right?" Owen asked.

"They have to be," Claire insisted.

Angie hesitated. "I don't like to deal in absolutes. But I've seen the research. I'd say it's highly unlikely they've altered their sex. I'll run Delta's blood and see what I can find. And for their next quarterly, we'll sedate all of them and do thorough exams of all reproductive organs."

"Let's go see if Delta's waking up yet," Barry suggested.

He showed the doctor out of the office, sending a long, pointed stare at Owen, flicking over to Claire briefly, before shutting the door behind him.

"She can't be pregnant," Claire said, determined. "It's not possible." She pulled out her phone, searching through the data for whatever must have her convinced. "Wu assured me that was corrected. They did hundreds of tests. The other assets in the field get tested randomly, too. It's not like how it was before," she continued. He stood and slowly walked to her. She still hadn't looked up from her phone. "We have better tracking technology now. We'd know if they were breeding. And they aren't. The chances that it somehow didn't work for the raptors must be astronomical. If anything, I would think the labs would have done more rigorous testing on the carnivores."

He placed both hands on her shoulders which finally made her look up from her cell. "I'm sure it's fine. Angie's probably right. It's probably just a phantom pregnancy." He let his hands drop from her shoulders and crossed them over his chest. "They're fully mature now. It's probably just what would have been the normal time in her life and time of the year for mating and everything."

Claire shook her head, still unconvinced, apparently, or maybe just nervous about the possibilities.

"I'm still going to talk to Wu about it," she said.

He nodded and her stare turned to his. "You yelled at me," she said flatly.

He rolled his eyes and walked to his desk, leaning back against the edge. "You weren't listening to me."

"And I don't think you were listening to me." She took slow steps closer to him, her arms also crossed now.

"I'm in charge out here." She cocked her head and gave him a patronizing look. "I am," he insisted. "You _have_ to take my lead out here. They don't think of themselves as your assets." He gestured widely in the direction of the paddock. "They don't know they were made in test tubes. They only know that those walls are the only thing separating them from the freedom to live and eat on their own schedule. And they aren't going to be tamed by you flashing a business card with your job title on it!"

She nodded. "Okay. You're right," she whispered. She put her hands on his arms and slowly rubbed at his biceps. "But you can't talk to me like that in front of other employees."

"I tried asking nicely," he pointed out.

She nodded. "You did, and next time I'll try to remember to listen. But even if I don't, you can't talk to me like that."

He didn't necessarily agree with her. Not on this. He wouldn't barge into her office and start screaming at her, but when her safety is involved, he couldn't see himself backing down.

Her hands were warming on his arms and she slid them up and over to his chest. He grabbed at her waist and pulled her to him, kissing her. Her hands threaded through his hair.

"Are you still free tonight?" she asked, breathless, when she pulled back.

"Yeah," he said, nodding before kissing her again.

Her lips felt so smooth against his. She tasted amazing. He could have easily kissed her like that longer, but he knew she didn't want that kind of simple intimacy. Kissing like that was almost more personal than sex, so he pulled her around to have her body pinned between his and the desk. His hands fell to her back and ass as hers continued to massage and scratch his scalp.

"The door isn't locked," she warned against his mouth. "And I've already been here longer than I planned to be."

He kissed along her jaw and neck, ignoring her words for the moment. Her vanilla lotion smelled sweeter, somehow. He missed that scent lingering on his sheets.

Eventually he collected himself pulled away from her.

"I'll see you tonight," she said quietly.

He nodded and let her walk away from him.

"I'm going to talk to Dr. Wu about your raptors," she said halfway to the door. He grinned at her possessive phrasing. "I'll let you know what he says. He might want to come by and talk a look at them."

Owen turned to face her and shrugged. "Just let me know." He nudged off the desk. "I'll walk out with you."

She paused with her hand on the door and looked over his office. "Last time I was in this office, I didn't get a chance to look around." She smirked at him. "I hadn't even noticed how small it was."

"We can't all have the plush corner offices, Dearing," he replied, waiting for her to open the door.

"Something tells me you prefer this to a big office anyway," she said.

He nodded and she opened the door, allowing them both to leave and walk down the short hall to the buildings exit.

Once outside, Claire started walking to her car, saying a short goodbye and a hushed "I'll see you tonight." He smiled as discreetly as he could and started towards the bridge to see how Delta was doing.

"Claire," Barry said, his voice coming from over his shoulder. He turned and saw his friend standing with his arms crossed with a stoic yet slightly amused expression.

"What about her?" he asked, he glanced over at the Mercedes pulling out of the paddock's dirt lot.

"You seemed pretty upset that she wouldn't go to your office," he said casually.

Owen put his hands on his hips. "You don't think she should have?"

"I think it's odd that you were only telling her to and not the vets."

"We were worried they were going to hurt themselves," he argued. "Of course I wanted the vets there."

"Okay," he said lightly.

"What are you thinking?" Owen asked curiously.

Barry shook his head and walked away, fighting a smile. Owen turned back towards the bridge, cursing under his breath as he climbed the stairs.

* * *

 **So Barry's got an idea now... Fun times. Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews!**

* * *

She could be incredibly loud sometimes. He sort of liked it. He liked that she lost control when she was with him. It excited him, made him feel something akin to powerful.

They'd spent the past hour tossing and rolling around on his bed. He'd pulled her hips to meet his. She'd pushed hers down harder on him. Her hands scratched at his back and arms. His mouth sucked at spots on her chest. Her second climax had brought him to his own.

As they gently, and tiredly separated, she moved to his side, landing on his arm and lazily draping one of hers over his chest.

"How the hell do you _not_ want to do that every day?" he asked, catching his breath as his heart still pounded in his chest.

"Oh, that sounds exhausting," she said.

He smiled and wrapped the arm mostly trapped beneath her up to cup her shoulder. "Yeah, but it'd be fun."

She pushed the hair that had fallen over her face out of her eyes and smiled back at him. "You don't think we'd get bored?"

He shrugged. "I'm sure between the two of us, we'd come up with ways to make it interesting."

She hummed a quiet laugh and sat up, tugging the flimsy sheets on his bed up to cover her chest. He turned quickly to the side of his bed to hide his eye roll and sat up to dispose of his condom.

"Okay, I have to talk to you about something," she began confidently. "I told you my sister is planning a family vacation here."

He nodded. "I remember. You said it was my fault."

"I'm glad you brought that up," she said happily. "Because I know they're expecting me to give them behind-the-scenes access and I was _wondering_ if I could bring them by to see the raptors?"

He turned back and sat against the headboard. "You want to bring kids to see my raptors?"

"You don't think it's safe?" she questioned.

He regarded her carefully, thinking over all the possible outcomes of bringing new and strange people around to gawk at the girls.

"My nephew is a huge dinosaur buff and I know he'd love it. When I was visiting them, he kept trying to ask about all these different facts he'd read and I..." She threw her hands up, the sheet still secured in place by her arms up to her elbows. "I really don't know much about them, as it turns out," she admitted. "I know how much it costs to feed an apatosaur and a herd of triceratops. I know the average number of visitors that attend the mosasaur feeding show. But I don't know the weight of the T-Rex or the wingspan of the pterodactyls. And as soon as he figured that out I went from the cool aunt who runs the dinosaur theme park to just some lady to whom his mom is related."

He smiled sympathetically. "And you think I can make you cool again?"

"I think you might be able to help." She smiled sweetly and shuffled closer to him on her knees.

He was thinking that with the way Delta's been acting and the trouble he's had with the four of them getting distracted with other people on the bridge, it might not be a good show for outsiders. But the success he'd had that day, getting the three to calm down after Delta's exam, and the look Claire was giving, made him inclined to agree.

"And if I do this for you," he began slyly, "what do I get out of it?" He reached for her and let his hands rest on her upper thighs and hips as she came ever closer.

"What if I gave you" - her fingers grazed over his chest and shoulders - "an _apology?_ "

"I do love your apologies," he said quietly. "Alright, Dearing. You drive a hard bargain but I accept your terms." He craned his neck enough to close the distance to her lips.

"I should go," she said, pulling back after a short kiss.

"What about my apology?" he asked, put out.

She smirked and maneuvered herself to the edge of the bed. "I'll come back tomorrow. I'm exhausted now."

"It's only eight," he said, looking at the clock on his nightstand. He slid forward, following her movements and catching her arm as she stood. "What if I gave _you_ an apology now?"

She turned to face him, still wrapped up in his sheets. "Again?" She pulled the sheet up enough to bring her knee up to rest against the mattress next to his hip. He supported her waist as she did the same with her other leg. Now sitting on his lap, she grabbed the corners of his bedding and opened them, leaning forward to kiss him, and then wrapped her arms around his neck, cocooning them together.

He loved her body against his. Her skin was cool and smooth. It felt like a balm on his constantly heated flesh.

"I wanted you so badly yesterday," she said as she brought her lips to his neck.

"Now you know how I feel," he laughed.

He brought his hand from her back to her thigh, slowly dragging his fingers to her center as they kissed again. With two finger pressing against her clit, she hummed and rocked her hips softly.

"You're so sexy," he praised.

She smiled and pulled back, easing off his lap. "I really should get going."

He stared at her, dumbfounded as she gathered her discarded clothes. He groaned and fell back into the bed. "Just marry me already," he whined. "Jesus Christ."

She dressed while he glared at the ceiling. Eventually, she climbed over him again, kissing him hard but momentarily.

"I like to leave you wanting more," she said with a proud smile.

"This is my punishment, isn't it? For not seeing you yesterday?"

"Would I be that petty?" she asked cutely. She stood and made her way to his door.

"I'm trying to apologize," he insisted.

She turned back to him as she stood in his door way, holding her blazer in her hands. "After you get your promised apology tomorrow, you can give me mine."

"I'm holding you to that!" he yelled out to her as she walked through his trailer. "Marry me!"

"No!" The door slammed behind her.

...

Owen upped the training with the raptors to twice a day in preparation for Claire's family visiting. He also started having more and more people come onto the bridge during the training and create distractions. He had to increase the rewards for the girls to increase their focus. They were allowed to hunt following the second training session and they let out two pigs instead of one. It made it more challenging for them to coordinate but eventually he knew it increased their odds of catching one. And they loved it. Between the extra food and more attention, they seemed to be having a blast.

Claire had met with Wu on more than one occasion, according to her, and they both came by the paddock though not much was resolved by doing so. Wu seemed bothered that they would even _suggest_ maybe the sex-change issue hadn't been fully resolved. He was almost challenging when he told them to have the girls tested more thoroughly.

Eventually, the vet, Angie, did a full examine of each of the girls and confirmed that none of them had changed sex. They'd even done ultra sounds on all four girls to make sure none were actually spontaneously pregnant - though that was obviously impossible - all for good measure.

Owen, Barry, and Angie developed a plan to handle Delta's symptoms of what they believed to be a phantom pregnancy. Basically, they wouldn't let her back out of participating in the training, and whenever she got too aggressive, or the girls got too protective of her, they split them into two groups between himself and Barry and distracted them with treats and tricks until they calmed down. Angie suggested that the more distraction she had for the longer amount of time, the more likely her brain will sort of "reset" and she'll break out of the habit of acting like she's carrying.

Claire started coming by his bungalow two to three times a week - which was awesome. Barry still made his insinuations about the two of them when she came by the paddock (which he didn't tell Claire about, knowing she'd likely freak out), so being alone with her and not having to worry about keeping whatever relationship they had hidden was a relief.

She'd come by on what she described as really good days and bad days. He knew there was more like three different kinds of days.

Her good days, and they had to be _really_ good days, consisted of her coming over, laughing and smiling, and doing wonderful things to him. He'd lost count of how many _apologies_ she'd given him. Those only happened on the good days.

He considered what she called her "bad days" as really just _frustrated_ days. She'd come by and rant quickly about someone who'd been an idiot or some mistake in paperwork or budgeting. It reminded him of the fundraiser they'd gone to when they first hooked up. He'd brought her over a drink which she surprisingly accepted and began bitching about work. He thought it was hilarious and started ordering more drinks for the both of them to keep her going. He didn't realize the consequences of those actions would bring him so much joy over the next year.

On her _really_ bad days, that she didn't even seem to acknowledge, truthfully, she would bring over a bottle of wine and not say a word as she poured them both a glass. He'd never really been a wine drinker, but he made exceptions on those days.

It was pretty terrible, but he looked forward to the really bad days.

Usually, on the good and frustrated days, they fucked like animals. They were all over the place - the bed, the wall, the small couch, the tiny table in the kitchen area. They'd been in such a hurry one day, they did it on the floor right in front of the door. They fucked this way and that. It was hurried and loud. There wasn't much distinction in that respect between the frustrated and the good.

On the bad days, whatever it was that happened to put her in that state, she let him take full control. It was his chance to go slow and really appreciate and worship the body he'd become so fond of. They were quieter and she kissed him sweeter, longer. He always got a little excited when he saw her climb out of her car with a pre-chilled bottle of white.

...

 **You're my friend, right?**

He'd been relaxing in his hammock, watching the moon as it crept through the night sky over his head when she texted him. It was later than when they would usually begin their rendezvous.

 **Yeah** , he answered with a small smile. He liked that she made more of an effort to point out that they were indeed friends and that it was okay to call themselves that. Even if she still didn't want anyone to know what they did in private together.

 **Then I'm coming over now.**

 **Ok**

It didn't take her long to get to his place. She slammed her car door shut with a frustrated groan.

"Hey," he called to her, making her jump in surprise. She wasn't expecting him to be out there. "Everything okay?"

She stomped her way over to the hammock. "No," she said with her hands on her hips. "Men are so stupid."

His eyes fell to what she was wearing - a black dress that did wonders for her cleavage and clung to her waist. His brow furrowed.

"How so?" he asked cautiously.

She looked down at the hammock. "Can you come inside? Or...move over at least?"

He shifted as best he could and she awkwardly climbed in to lay next to him. He didn't want to ask. He didn't think he wanted to know.

But he already did. He knew.

She'd been on a date.

A date that ended poorly, but a date none the less. It sort of infuriated him that another man might have kissed her or had her close like she was to him now. He refused to think anything further had happened, and happily, her storming over to his place seemed to confirm that nothing had.

"It's a nice night," he said softly, looking back up at the sky. "The moon was huge earlier. Did you see it?"

She shook her head. "I was busy." Her tone was still tight.

They laid in silence for a few moments until she began fidgeting and sighed loudly. It made him start laughing.

"What?" she asked.

"You. You're funny," he said simply.

"So this is what you do out here in the... _boondocks?_ You just lay out in your hammock and watch the sky?"

"Pretty much," he answered happily. "When I'm not busy with you, anyway."

"Oh, sorry," she said angrily. "I didn't realize I was keeping you from your stargazing."

"Claire," he said with a sigh.

"Don't call me that," she snapped, rolling to the side and getting out of the hammock.

"I can call you by your first name," he said, climbing out as well. "It's part of the whole _friend_ thing."

He saw her roll her eyes before walking towards his trailer.

"We're not having sex tonight!" he called after her.

She pivoted back to him. "That's not why I'm here!"

"Good," he muttered. He followed as she rushed to his trailer again.

"I had a bad night, _Owen_ ," she claimed, stressing his name before opening his fridge. "I thought _friends_ comforted each other over things like that. Not insulted them."

She pulled out a left over bottle of wine and grabbed a plastic cup from his cupboard. At any other time, he would have thought it was cute how she'd become so familiar with his place.

"How did I insult you?"

"You _laughed_ at me," she said, outraged. "And then you act like I'm only here for _sex_."

"Have you ever been over here for anything else?" he asked wittily, knowing he had her. "You don't come over here just to hang out."

"Well, I am now!"

He crossed his arms and leaned his back against the counter as she took a quick sip of the wine. "Only because your date sucked," he grumbled petulantly and quiet.

"What was that?" she asked, coming to stand in front of him.

"You had a date tonight," he said, not backing down. "And apparently, it didn't end too well."

"My _date_ was me trying to get funding for _your_ raptors," she said with hostility. "But apparently, to men _everywhere_ , dinner at a nice restaurant automatically means it's a date - even if it's _supposed_ to be just business!"

"Okay, you _look_ like you went on a date," he said, gesturing to her dress, and ignoring the fact that she had been trying to do something for him apparently. He couldn't see how going out with another man helped him much.

"It was a nice restaurant!" she defended. "That's what you do with the big investors! You take them out to nice places. You wine and dine them. And the dress" - she gestured to herself - " _works_. Looking like scumbag arm candy can do wonders if you can stomach it long enough. Which I've learned to do! But that doesn't mean I'm going to sleep with the guy!"

"I never said you were going to sleep with him," Owen argued. He might have been thinking it, but he didn't say it.

"You implied it," she countered. "And so did he."

Realization dawned on him. She was mad because the investor had made assumptions about the evening. And regrettably, he'd made the same mistake.

"Alright, I'm sorry," he conceded. "I didn't know it was a business thing. I thought you had a date and..."

There was a moment of awkward silence. She was staring directly at him and for the first time, it was him avoiding eye contact.

"You know what this is between us, right?" she asked quietly. "You know we're not...together."

He sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I know," he answered, irritated. "That doesn't mean I like the idea of you with another guy. I don't want to do that. I don't want you to go out on dates and then come to me for sex. That's not fair - to me or the guy you've gone out with."

"I'm not doing that," she insisted earnestly.

"But you have," he said, remembering the first time they'd been together - sober, at least. Funny how he didn't care so much about that situation back then.

She nodded, agreeing. "I haven't though. Not for a long time," she said.

He didn't want to think about how many times it had happened without him knowing about it. She was staring at him, and he knew what she was thinking. He was thinking it too.

Why did he care?

What did it matter if she was seeing other guys?

He didn't really like the answer. It felt pathetic and weak. It was ego-bruising, is what it was. He wasn't good enough for her. For sex, sure - but she'd clearly been taken by surprise with that - but not for the other stuff. And why the hell was he complaining about that? It was like having all the benefits of a girlfriend without actually having one. That should make him happy. It was like he'd (drunkenly) stumbled upon the world's best loop hole.

But she didn't want to be seen with him in public. She didn't want people to know about them - even that they were friends. And that, he realized, kind of sucked. And was pretty insulting.

She shook her head and closed her eyes. "Maybe we should stop this," she said quietly. "Maybe it's too complicated." She rubbed her hand over her forehead, like she was trying to sooth a headache. "This can't last forever, right?"

He felt his heart hammering in his chest. "Not unless you suddenly take me up on those marriage proposals," he replied, his voice thick. He did not like the idea of her no longer in his bed, no matter how hard it was to know she didn't want anything more with him.

She smiled sadly. "They aren't really proposals," she said matter-of-factly. "You don't ask me. You tell me."

"Part of me hopes that you'll just go along with it if I say it determined enough." The corner of his mouth lifted in a short smile.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I feel bad."

He smiled and shook his head. "You don't have anything to feel bad about." It wasn't entirely true, but why make her feel worse? He pulled her to him, hugging her tightly. "This was fun."

She laughed lightly at his words. The sound vibrated in his chest. "Yes, it was." She looked up to him again, her chin resting on his chest. "I had fun with you, Owen Grady."

He kissed her quickly before she could refuse. "What do you think? One last time for the road?" he joked with a wink.

She laughed and pulled away. "No, I think a clean break would be best."

"I don't know," he said doubtfully. "You've been drinking. Are you sure you shouldn't stay awhile? Just to make sure the alcohol has worn off?"

She grabbed his shoulders and pulled herself up to kiss him again. Her hand moved to the back of his head as the kiss deepened and for a second, he couldn't believe his taunting had worked. But she pulled away after a moment with a delighted but small smile.

"Marry me," he said, smiling back.

She gave him another quick peck in response and left his trailer. He followed her out, watched her get back in her car with a short wave goodbye, and then walked back to his hammock as she pulled away.

He laid back down, staring up at the stars, and felt oddly cold. He tried to shake the feeling, knowing what caused that feeling was beyond his control.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Now please go review and let me know what you think!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm so very sorry for a long wait between chapters. I could give plenty of excuses and reasons, but I'd rather just get to the point. Here's the next chapter. I hope everyone is still invested!**

* * *

" _Mr. Grady_ ," Zara said kindly when he picked up the phone call.

"You and her are the only people that call me that," he said humorously. "What's up?"

" _Miss Dearing asked me to give you a call and make sure you had read the email I sent you regarding her family's upcoming visit to the island._ "

"She's standing right in front of you, isn't she?"

" _Why would you say that?_ " she asked slowly.

"Because you're talking all formal," he answered teasingly. "She doesn't think I read my emails, does she?" he asked, offended. He rarely did, truth be told. But by some miraculous chance, he _had_ seen Zara's message from last week.

" _So you are aware her family will be on the island in two days? And you're scheduled to have them by the raptor paddock around noon time on Tuesday?_ " she pressed.

"Yes," he said patiently. "Do me a favor, Zara; tell her friends typically speak to one another. They don't have their assistants be intermediaries."

" _I'm sure she'll be impressed by your vocabulary,_ " she said politely. She cleared her throat. " _Hold, please._ "

He rolled his eyes as the dull elevator music played over the line. It hadn't escaped his notice that since she ended their sexual relationship she'd been avoiding him. It wasn't like he was actively seeking her out, but he'd sent her texts initially asking when her sister and family were coming, verifying how many people would be at the paddock whenever they came by, that sort of thing. But Zara had been the one to answer him a few days later with another phone call. And since then, Zara had been his only connection to Claire. It felt ridiculous.

" _Thank you, Mr. Grady_ ," Zara said, picking up the line again. " _I'll be in touch with you the morning of their visit to verify you're ready for them._ "

"I'll be ready," he assured her. "Hey, Zara, real quick - is that friend of yours still single?" He smirked, knowing that if Claire was listening, it might make her jealous.

" _No_ ," she answered sadly. " _I told you she was a catch. There's only ever a very small window of opportunity with her._ "

"Ah. Oh, well." He wasn't really interested anyway. "What about you, huh? You need a night out?"

Zara scoffed. " _Oh, Mr. Grady...no,_ " she said definitively. " _Definitely not_."

"Wow, thanks," he said dryly, almost laughing. "Remember, I did save your life that one time."

" _You called for a tow. That hardly counts as saving my life._ "

"We live on an island full of man-eating dinosaurs!" he argued playfully. "Anything could have happened."

She laughed for a moment before clearing her throat again. " _I should go. I'll be in touch shortly. Thank you, Mr. Grady,_ " she said, adopting the formal tone once more.

He hung up and shook his head. Glancing down at the paddock below, he eyed the four girls, still bowing from his previous command. He grinned.

"Eyes up," he called and they all raise they're heads in attention. "Good girls! Very good, girls!" He tossed a rat to each of them.

...

When Tuesday rolled around and Zara called him in the morning, he had a little fun at her expense, making her think he wasn't ready for Claire and the others to visit. She hadn't been too happy with his prank but he thought it was funny and that was what mattered, he figured.

" _Very good, Owen. Way to give me a heart attack,_ " Zara said sarcastically. " _They'll be there around noon_." And she hung up quickly after that.

He had the guys let out a couple of pigs for the raptors to chase around a few minutes before noon, knowing Dearing would be punctual. And like clockwork, her white Mercedes pulled up to the paddock. He rinsed his grimy hands quickly in the slop sink and walked out to meet the small group.

" _Whoa!_ " he guffawed as Claire exited the SUV in khaki shorts and a white top. He hardly noticed the other woman exiting from the passenger side, or the young man from the door behind the driver. "Shorts, Dearing?" he taunted. "You never disappoint, do you?" He smiled easily.

"Mr. Grady," she greeted politely, softly. "Thank you for letting us come by."

He nodded, his smile fading a little as he took his cue from her: don't be too friendly. _Got it._

"You work with the velociraptors?" said the excited boy who came around the front of the vehicle.

Owen nodded and his smiled broadened again. "I do." He held out his hand to the kid. "My name's Owen."

"Grey," he responded, shaking his hand enthusiastically.

"This is my sister, Karen," Claire said, pointing to the woman who came to stand behind Grey. "And my other nephew, Zack."

Owen politely offered his hand to Karen and then to Zack, the latter seemingly reluctant to take his hands out of his pockets.

"Can we see them?" Grey asked impatiently.

"Yeah!" Owen agreed, happy to be around someone as passionate about his animals as he was - even if that someone was about twenty years younger.

Owen started walking backwards towards the bridge as the small group followed him. "I thought we were having one more?"

"My husband couldn't make it," Karen explained. She and Claire shared a hidden smile from the boys. He saw Zack roll his eyes.

"Is it true they can run up to forty miles an hour?" Grey asked. He was practically skipping as they walked.

"Sometimes faster," he bragged. He stopped at the foot of the metal stairs. "Okay, some ground rules before we go up," he began seriously. The four pairs of eyes watched him, three looking nervously excited (okay, maybe two looking nervous, and one look reluctantly excited) and one, Claire's, with cautious humor.

"Rule number one: there's a platform at the top that leads out to a bridge; only _I_ am allowed on the bridge. The rest of you will stay on the platform." The girls had gotten over their distractions and aggression issues with other people being around Owen on the bridge, but he figured for their safety, particularly the kids' safety, it was best to leave them where they weren't likely to fall over the rail. "That includes you, Dearing," he said sternly. Karen and Zack glanced at her, Karen smirking. Claire nodded and fought a smile at him singling her out. "I know how bad you are at following my rules here."

"I won't go on the bridge," she agreed.

He smiled slyly. "Good. Rule number two: do not _tease_ the flesh-eating dinosaurs!" he said emphatically. "They'll be interested in you because you're new. They might snap their jaws or hiss. Please, do not wave your delicious little arms at them." He grabbed Grey's wrist and wiggled his arm about, making him laugh.

"Rule number three - and this is the really important one: I run this paddock and these animals trust me. They respect me. That means my word is law. So if I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to stay still or quiet..." He looked down to Grey. "What are you going to do?"

The kid held up his finger to his mouth and made his body stiff and rigid, playing along. Owen smiled and looked up to Claire again. "And Dearing? What are you going to do?"

He happily noticed she was blushing a little. She shook her head marginally and bit her cheek to keep from smiling. "I'm going to stay still and quiet."

That was a good sign, he thought. He could still make her smile. She wasn't so uptight around him now that she wouldn't smile.

He lead them up the steps and showed them where to stand on the small platform. He explained the girls were still out hunting pigs. While they waited, he introduced them to Barry and a few of the other techs the were lingering around the perimeter of the paddock's catwalk.

"They got one!" one of the tech's called out to the others.

"Who got it?" Barry shouted back.

"Why does that matter?" Claire asked quietly as Owen waited for the answer.

"Blue and Delta won't listen as well if they caught it. Charlie will be fine," he said with a shrug. "Echo will be so proud of herself, she'll start showing off during the training."

"Looks like Blue!" the tech answered.

Owen and the techs clapped and cheered.

"Isn't that bad?" Karen asked. "It'll be more difficult to deal with."

He shrugged again. "Yeah, but Blue's my beta. And really, we're always proud - doesn't matter if she's a brat after."

"So that makes you the alpha?" Grey asked.

Owen smiled. "Definitely, kid."

He heard the soft pounding of the raptor's feet against the grassy ground and told the group to listen too. Grey nodded, his eyes wide, happy. He liked this kid, he decided.

One by one, three of the raptors pushed their way out of the brush, chasing down the final pig. The pig ran towards a hole in the wall and leapt over the tiny lip on the grown, into safety. As the three girls paced in frustration at having lost their hunt, Owen introduced them, pointing to each, giving their name, and describing the physical markings they each had.

"We're just waiting on Blue," Owen said, turning back to where the tech was still watching the raptor through the foliage.

There was loud hissing and quick chattering sounds that made him turn back. Charlie, Delta, and Echo had spotted their guests and were curiously, and aggressively, checking them out. Echo jumped into the air, making it up almost two-thirds as high as the platform they were on. Karen and Claire gasped loudly, Zack took a step back in surprise, and Grey fought against his mother's hand to peek over the rail, smiling in awe.

"Echo," Owen scolded. "Come on over here. They aren't for you." He clapped his hands and whistled to get their attention. A tech brought a bucket of rats to him, placing it at his feet. "Come on, Blue!" he called out. "Let's go, girl!"

He directed the three to stand under the bridge beneath him as they waited for Blue.

"Here she comes!" the tech yelled.

Owen grabbed a rat and waited for Blue to come through the bushes. When she did, he called out for her to stop and look at him, which she did, thankfully, eyeing the rat in his hand.

"Come get it," he said, enticing her and lobbed the rat just over the railing. Blue took off, charging forward and jumping up to catch the rat in mid air. Owen had to turn quickly to see her landing on the other side of the bridge.

He heard the small chorus of _whoa!_ and _awesome!_ He glanced over at the group, all smiling now, even the _too cool_ Zack. That was a victory, he decided.

Blue huffed, startled by the presence of new people. Owen noticed Delta stood closely behind Echo and Charlie. She'd been doing better, but habits are hard to break and he knew they'd all gotten in the habit of thinking Delta was pregnant.

"Alright, girls," he said affectionately. They looked to him, their leader, and he couldn't help the small sweeping of pride in his chest. They weren't terribly distracted by the new people, the new smells; not enough to ignore him anyway. They'd learned, after these last months of training, to always look to him when he called. They knew they'd be rewarded.

He made them jump and bow and lay down for the amusement for their audience. Grey, Karen, and Claire laughed at just about everything they did. Zack really only lit up when they jumped high, catching rats and snapping their jaws shut. They got a little rambunctious; Blue and Delta chased Echo as she taunted the others with a rat she wouldn't eat right away. Charlie eventually jumped on her back, bring Echo to the ground and quickly jumping off again. They weren't hurting each other. Owen had seen them play in similar fashions throughout their upbringing. Eventually he clapped his hands again, gaining the attention of the raptors, the guests, and his techs.

"Let's load them in the pens," he called out. He looked to Zack. "You ever pet a raptor before?" Grey started jumping up and down in excitement and Zack grinned, pumped up enough to show some emotion other than disinterest.

He led them back down the stairs as the techs lured the girls through a series of gates until they were securely locked in their pens. Grey and Zack chatted loudly about what they'd just seen, and Karen took to asking Owen questions about the girls and his job.

"Okay, now when we go in here," Owen began as he had them standing outside the primary gate entrance to the paddock, "I need you to be quiet and calm. They're secure," he said, looking back to see Delta and Echo already locked in place, "and can't get to you, but if they get too excited, they can bang around and hurt themselves." He eyed everyone carefully, making sure they understood. "Your aunt's already done this, so she'll be a pro at it by now," he said with a wink at Claire.

"You've _touched_ them before?" Grey asked, impressed.

Claire nodded, surprised but smiling at her nephew's awe. "Just Echo. She's the sweet one, apparently."

Owen nodded. "I'm going to let Claire be with Delta today, though." He glanced at her meaningfully. He wasn't sure how Delta or the others would react to someone new touching her. At least Claire would be somewhat familiar to them.

"Who do I get to pet?" Grey asked eagerly.

"You all can take your pick of the other three," he said.

"We're ready, Owen," Barry called as he exited a gate further down the paddock after supervising the raptors getting locked in.

"Alright, remember: calm and quiet," he said as the gate opened for them. He led them inside. "I'll bring you over to them one at a time. Dearing, let's get you over there first."

He held out his hand, gesturing for her to step forward, which she did, much less hesitant than she had the first time. The raptors snorted at her scent approaching.

"You're still wearing that vanilla," he said quickly.

"Always," she whispered.

"Dearing, meet Delta," Owen said with a soft smile as they approached the pen. He lifted both his hands to Delta's face and stroked her along her jowls.

"Lightly," he said to Claire, who took his place after a few pets. He stayed put for the transition, making sure Delta wasn't going to lose it and cause a commotion. When he decided it was safe, he slowly back away, always keeping an eye on the two of them.

He glanced behind him. "You ready?" he asked Zack who nodded. He seemed a little nervous. "Which one do you want?" Zack shrugged and shook his head. "Let's see how Blue likes you," Owen suggested. He waved his hand and together they approached Blue. "If you do well with her, you can tell all the girls back home you bonded with the deadliest dino on the island," he joked.

"Hey, girl," he cooed when they stood before her. He brought one hand under her chin, rubbing at the skin between the steel bars.

"You'll see she's got blood around her mouth," Owen said, pointing to the dark red specks and splotches. "That's from the pig." He backed away so Zack could take over. "She'll tense..." he warned as his shaky hand raised to her chin.

"Whoa," he breathed, feeling the tightening of her skin. Blue inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"You're alright," Owen assured her softly.

He stood with Zack, glancing over at Claire quickly and then to Karen and Grey who were watching with smiles.

"How are you doin'?" he asked Zack who only nodded in response. "What do you think?"

The young man's face split open in a surprising smile. "Cool," he said, still nervous.

Owen nodded and returned his smiled. "Yeah, right? It's awesome."

"Yeah," he said.

So he wasn't a man of many words - that was okay. His grin and intense gaze as he studied Blue assured Owen he was enjoying himself.

Again, he backed away, watching the raptors with their guests, and happily noted that everything seemed to be running smoothly. He asked Karen who was next, and she pointed to Grey who was watching Owen with such reverence it was a little unnerving.

"We've got Charlie and Echo left," Owen told him, pointing out the raptors as he said their names. "Which one do you want?"

"Charlie," he decided almost instantly, pointing to her pen on the far side of the holding area.

"Good choice," Owen said. He grabbed an empty bucket from a stack by the gate door and walked Grey to the raptor, upturning the bucket so he could stand on top and reach Charlie's snout easier.

Charlie groaned and growled quietly as Gray climbed up. Owen hushed her as he made sure the boy was steady. He could tell Gray was eager to touch the raptor, but was refraining from doing so without direction. Owen showed him where to pet Charlie, and stayed with him the longest to make sure he was okay.

Remember," he said to the kid, "it's important to stay calm. We don't want them to get too worked up." Gray nodded vigorously.

Owen glanced over as Claire before walking back to Karen. "Good?" he asked when they locked eyes. She nodded with a soft smile.

Karen was the most nervous. She was a little jumpy and hesitant to reach out, but Owen guided her hand and assured her she was safe. It helped when Echo closed her eyes and tried to lean into her touch as best she could.

He checked in with Gray quickly, making sure he was still doing okay before walking over to Zack.

"How's she doing?" he asked as he stood between Blue and Delta's pins.

Zack nodded. "Good, I think." Blue snorted.

"You disagree?" Owen asked her teasingly. "What, he's not as affectionate as I am?" He smiled at Zack. "She likes to be talked to. Just tell her she's pretty and she'll be fine. Just like you should with any other girl. Right, Dearing?"

He turned to Claire and winked. She shook her head, pursing her lips in a tight smile. He turned back to Zack and jerked his head at the kid's aunt. "I try to do that with her when she's mad at me; just tell her she's pretty and hope for the best."

Zack chuckled quietly and glanced at his aunt then back at Owen. "Is this what you do? You practice your pick-up lines on the raptors?"

"Hell yeah," Owen admitted jokingly. "They're a great audience. She'll start purring if I come up with a good one." He gave Zack a quick pat on the shoulder. "Keep complimenting her. I've got to go check on your brother."

Claire turned her head to watch him as he passed behind her. He winked at her coy smile.

He spent some time in the space between Charlie and Echo, making sure Karen was still doing okay and teaching Gray everything he could think of regarding the animals - information about their bone structure, their brain, their claws, how they hunt, how good their eyesight is, everything. The kid absorbed it all like a sponge.

Karen pulled out her cell and asked Owen to take some pictures to send back to the boys' father. He snapped a few of each of the guests with their respective raptor and then got a group shot of the four of them with the girls behind them.

"Karen, you should get one with just you and the boys," Claire suggested, stepping away from the group and coming to stand at Owen's side as he took another picture.

"Thank you," she said softly, not even glancing at him. He nodded discreetly in response.

"Anything for you, Dearing. You know that," he said just as quietly. He raised his voice as he addressed the rest of the group. "You know, I take a pretty good picture. I should have been a photographer."

"You missed your calling," Claire taunted.

He lead them all outside the holding area and secured the gate behind them. Zack and Gray were chatting excited, going through the pictures on their mom's phone.

"Thank you for letting us come by," Karen said kindly to him.

"Oh, absolutely," he agreed.

"I think this helped make up for them not being able to see the T-Rex," she added.

"Oh, right," Owen said. "They're doing construction over there right now." He looked to Claire for confirmation.

She nodded sadly. "It couldn't be helped. We were trying to put it off until the end of the season, but it was getting too dangerous for the technicians to work in there with him."

"Yeah, but it's not like we've shipped him off the island," Owen said. "They're still keeping him backstage. Take them to see that."

"It's not so easy," she argued with a soft smile.

"You did it here," he said, gesturing behind him to the paddock gate.

"Well," she said with a pointed look, "I have more pull here."

Owen shrugged and tried making it look like he was smiling for a different reason than her bringing up their history. "You're Claire Dearing. You're the freaking queen here. I'm sure you could pull some strings."

She shook her head and stared at her sister with a look of exasperation. Karen giggled quietly.

"You know, you can be very frustrating sometimes," she said to him.

He smiled charmingly. "You have your moments, too. And, look, if you're uncomfortable asking for special treatment, I can call in a favor. I do shit for them all the time over there, anyway. They owe me."

"You could get us in?" Karen asked excitedly.

Owen nodded. "Let me see," he said, pulling out his phone. He glanced at Claire. "You'd be okay with that, right?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "I guess. If you can get us in."

He smiled and took a few steps away from the women as he dialed the contact in his phone.

"Brines," he greeted quickly when his friend picked up. "Do you remember all that pizza and beer I've bought you over the years?"

" _Oh, God_ ," Brines groaned.

"Yeah, and that time I came over to your paddock and helped secure the rig for Rex's goats. And when I got that raccoon out of your ducts because apparently the techs at the Rex paddock are a bunch of dumb fat-asses who can't figure out how to get into a freaking air duct."

" _Alright, alright. Too far, man_ ," Brines said. " _What do you want?_ "

"I want you to let four of my closest friends in to see a feeding while the paddock is closed for construction," he demanded, turning back to face Claire and her sister who were watching him in amusement.

" _We talking employees or guests?_ "

"Three guests. One employee."

" _Shit, Grady, I don't know. I can hear the verbal ass beating from Browning, now._ "

"I think you'll be okay," Owen assured him. "Dearing's the employee."

"Claire _Dearing?_ " he asked loudly. " _What the hell does she want to come see a feeding for?_ "

"She's got family on the island," Owen explained.

" _So she comes over and does an unofficial official review of my team in what are already difficult circumstances..._ " Brines surmised. " _And if something happens to go wrong, it'll just happened to be in front of her family, too. Great. Sounds awesome, Grady._ "

"It's not a review. She's just brought them by to see my girls; that went alright. There's just these two kids that are dying to see your Rex," Owen said. "I don't know _why_. After my raptors, your Rex if going to look like such a lazy ass hole."

" _You're not baiting me into doing this,_ " Brines said.

"Fine. I'll just tell Dearing you're too chicken-shit to see her. I'm sure she'll understand."

Claire smiled and Karen nudged her arm as he smiled back.

" _You're such an ass. I don't even know why we're friends._ "

"Because I do shit like clean out your air ducts of dead raccoons. Are you going to agree to this or not?"

" _I don't even have a choice if it's Dearing, so yeah. But you gotta be there, too. You're the babysitter,_ " he conditioned.

"Fine," he agreed. "It's gotta be in the next couple of days."

" _I'll let you know_ ," he said before hanging up.

Owen grinned triumphantly and Karen began clapping happily. She stopped quickly. "Let's keep it a secret from the boys for now," she said in a hushed tone, eyeing her kids standing by Claire's Mercedes.

"He's going to let me know when we can stop by," he told the two them.

Claire nodded, smirking up at him. He still couldn't believe she was standing in front of him wearing shorts.

"Owen, would you like to join us tonight for dinner?" Karen asked politely. "We'd love to say thank you for all of this."

Owen's brows rose at the invitation and he looked to Claire, curious about her reaction. She was just as surprised as he was, judging by her wide eyes.

"That's really not necessary," he said kindly, chuckling a bit uneasily.

"Oh, please," Karen continued. "You'd be doing us another favor, really. Gray hasn't stopped asking questions since we arrived on the island, and you might actually be able to answer some of them." She laughed good-naturedly. "Plus - you know - you're friends with Claire..." she offered weakly.

Owen smiled and turned back to Claire. "Are we friends, Dearing?"

"Are we not, Grady?" she countered haughtily.

"I don't know. Lately you've been avoiding me."

"I have _not_ been avoiding you!"

"So you'd be fine with me going out to dinner with you all?" he asked shrewdly.

Claire hesitated before nodding firmly. Owen grinned happily. "Alright, then." He looked back to Karen. "I'd love to."

"Great!" she said happily.

"I'll text you where and when," Claire mumbled as she grabbed her sister's arm and began pulling her back to her car.

Owen waved to the boys. Zack raised his hand and Gray waved happily back as he ran around the car to sit behind his mom.

Someone noticeably coughed from behind him as he watched the car pull away. Owen turned and saw Barry standing by the holding gate door with a smart smirk.

"Problem?" he asked.

Barry shook his head. "She seemed happy to see you."

"Dearing?" he asked, pretending to need clarification.

"You flirted with her enough."

"I was being nice," Owen insisted.

"You're really never going to come clean with it, are you?"

Owen smiled, laughed a little, and shook his head. "There's nothing going on."

Barry waved an exasperated hand at him and walked back towards the bridge.

* * *

 **Please review! I'll try to be quicker with the updates.**


	11. Chapter 11

Owen was instructed by Claire to meet them at the hotel suite she had booked her family for their visit. He felt pretty ridiculous pulling up to the hotel on his motorcycle in his nice pants and tie, but they'd picked one of the fancier restaurants for dinner so he didn't have much of a choice. It didn't help that he felt oddly nervous as he walked down the hall towards the suites, running his hands over his hair to make sure it wasn't sticking up at weird angles from his ride over. With a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

"Hey," Claire greeted breathlessly as she pulled the door open for him. Her face was a little flushed, but his eyes soon dropped to take in her figure hugging white dress that made his mouth go dry.

"Hey," he said, nearly gasping.

"I'm sorry you had to come over here," she said as she stepped aside to let him enter. "I was going to have you meet us at the restaurant but we were running behind and the reservation had to be pushed back..." She waved her hand to indicate there may be more to the story but wasn't going to say.

"It's fine," he said with a shrug. They were still standing at the door, now closed, in the small hallway that opened up into a large living space. She was close and her vanilla lotion nearly choked him. He reminded himself not to reach for her, not to kiss her, not to pin her against the wall and reach his hand under that tight dress.

"I'm helping Karen get ready," she said. She made no motion to move away from him. "You look nice."

"Yeah," he said with an uncomfortable laugh. "You..." He could hardly find the words. Had she always looked so beautiful? "You look great."

"Thank you," she said shyly with a small blush. "Come in. Help yourself to a drink." She led him out of the hall and to the left, towards a small kitchen that over looked the living space and the large windows that showed a view of the lush tropical forest. "We'll be ready to leave in a few minutes."

Claire disappeared through another short hallway, to the bedrooms presumably. Zack and Gray were sitting at the bar counter.

"Owen!" Gray said excited. "You have to meet my dad!" He pointed to the laptop screen facing him and Zack - Zack, who had his eyes glued to his cell phone's screen.

Owen walked around the kitchen island and saw on the screen a man, maybe a little older than himself, smiling politely and waving. "Hey, there," Owen greeted. "Owen."

"Scott," the man said. "So you're the raptor guy, huh?"

"That would be me," he admitted. "It's a shame you couldn't make it out here."

"Yeah, well," the man said, shrugging. "Maybe I'll take the boys next time and Karen can stay home."

"Yeah, why would we all go together, right?" Zack asked snidely.

"Well, if you do ever make it down here, make sure Claire let's me know. We'll set something up. Your kids are already naturals with my raptors." He patted Gray proudly on the back.

"Dad, they're _awesome!_ " Gray said. "You should have seen how high they can jump!"

"I'm sure it was cool, bud."

"And their _teeth!_ " Gray continued, fast. "And Owen said they can run faster than forty miles an hour! And one of them, Blue - that's the beta - caught a pig when we first got there. She had blood dripping down her chin. And Zack got to pet her."

Scott listened with only mild interest and then looked to Owen with a sigh. "Do you have room to keep a twelve year old with you?"

Owen smiled. "Sure. I'll put him to work."

"Don't joke," Gray said, seemingly put out. "I'd stay here if I could."

"Dude, you'd probably get eaten within a week," Zack said.

"I would not."

"Owen would get sick of you and throw you in with the raptors."

Gray punched Zack in the shoulder and Zack shoved Gray back.

"Alright, boys," Scott said tiredly.

Owen lightly put his hands on both kids shoulders, holding them away from each other.

"He started it," Gray said petulantly.

"God, you're such a baby," Zack groaned.

"Now worries, Gray," Owen said, interjecting before the brothers could fight anymore. "You can come intern here when you're in college. And with your connection to your aunt, you'll be able to pick and choose where you work."

Just then, Claire and Karen came into the living area, Claire in her mind-numbing white dress, and Karen in a modest purple dress that wrapped around her waist with a knot at her side.

"So, I never heard how you managed to thaw out the Ice Queen," Scott said.

Owen saw Claire rolling her eyes and Karen shaking her head before he turned back to the video chat. "Sorry?" he asked, confused.

"You and Claire," Scott explained.

"Oh, we're not-" Owen began, looking back to Claire. "No, we're not together."

"You're not?" Gray asked, confused. Zack looked at him questioningly.

"No," Owen answered. "She's way out of my league." He smiled at Claire.

"Time to go," Karen announced quickly. "Say goodbye to your father." Gray and Zack both said "Bye" in weak and solemn voices and Karen snapped the laptop shut.

She sighed and it sounded like relief. "Speaking of boyfriends, is yours joining us tonight?"

"No," Claire answered. Owen caught her eyes shift quickly in his direction. "He's held up with work."

"Boyfriend?" he inquired. It was the first he was hearing of it.

Claire nodded and Karen asked, "Oh, what happened?"

"Some kids were caught stealing some merchandise. He's trying to find the parents," she answered.

"Browning?" Owen asked, still catching up. "You're back together with him?"

Claire nodded again, avoiding his stare and picking at a speck of dust on Zack's black button down.

"When?" he pressed.

Finally, she locked eyes with him. "Last week."

He breathed again - he hadn't realized he had stopped. She hadn't been seeing him when they were together. Or, not _together_...but whatever they were.

"I thought Owen was your boyfriend," Gray said to her, still looking confused.

"No, we're just friends," she replied with a kind smile to her nephew.

"Not good enough friends for her to tell me she's dating someone though," Owen retorted, his tone teasing.

"Maybe she didn't want to hurt your feelings," Zack said as he stood from the bar stool.

Rather than letting Zack think he embarrassed him, he played along. "Aw, Dearing, is that so?" Owen asked, placing his hand over his heart. "You _do_ care, don't you?"

Claire smiled and shook her head as Karen laughed and ushered them all out of the suite. "We'll miss the reservation if we don't leave now."

There was an awkward moment in the parking lot when Owen tired getting on his bike to drive over (Zack and Gray were both impressed with the motorcycle) and Claire insisted he ride with them in her Mercedes with them. They argued for a moment on whether it was really necessary or not that he travel with them until Claire huffed in annoyance and said, "Just get in the car, Grady." He was so happy that he was still able to get under her skin he didn't argue anymore. So the five of them drove together, Claire behind the wheel, Owen in the passenger seat, and Karen, Zack, and Gray piled in the back.

"You can be so irritating," Claire whispered to him after they'd parked and were walking into the restaurant.

"How?" he asked.

"You keep fighting with me on everything," she answered. "First with seeing the T-Rex, and just now with you getting in the car. Why does it always have to be a battle?"

She gave her name to the maitre'd. Karen was busy trying to smooth out wrinkles in Gray's shirt and Zack was still more interested in his phone than the world around him.

"I really didn't think you'd want me in the car with you," he admitted, still whispering.

"Why wouldn't I?" she asked, her brow telling her confusion.

He had refrain from rolling her eyes at her. "I know you've always been paranoid about the two of us seeming too friendly. Christ, Claire, this is the first meal we've ever shared together."

She glared at him stubbornly. "I'm not _paranoid_. I was always just cautious. And it doesn't matter because there is nothing between _us_ anymore. Everyone knows I'm with David."

"Not everyone," he muttered.

Before she could respond, the maitre'd gathered their attention and brought them to a table by a large window that overlooked the valley around them. It was a gorgeous view; the sun had just set behind the trees and purple and pink hues were thrown into the sky like paint.

"Wow," Karen admired as they took their seats.

"Hey," Owen whispered to Gray who sat next to him, pointing out the window. "You see that spot just over the trees? That light?"

"Is that a glare?" Gray asked.

"Yeah, that's the aviary. That's the top of the dome."

"Cool," he said, appreciatively.

"And right about... _there_ ," he said, pointing a little farther to the right of the dome, "is the raptor paddock."

"The island seems so much bigger from right here," Karen observed. "It didn't seem this big when we were walking around earlier."

"Most of the land is devoted to being habitats for the dinosaurs," Claire explained. "Guests only have access to about twenty percent of the island."

She picked up the drink menu and perused the wine list. "Owen, will you be drinking wine tonight?"

He turned to her with a curious expression. "Why?" he asked slowly.

"Because I'll order for you if you are. You're terrible at choosing wine," she said distractedly as she continued reading.

Owen looked to Karen who seemed to think Claire's suggestion was just as strange as he did. "If you pick my drink, I get to pick your meal."

"No," she said simply.

"Then there you go," he replied.

She snapped the drink menu shut and passed it to Karen, staring straight out the window. He fought a smile. He always thought she was cute when she was flustered.

"Alright," he conceded quietly. "You can pick my drink." He let his arm rest on the back of her chair. She finally looked to him and smiled softly. He chuckled and leaned over just enough to kiss her temple. "You're funny," he whispered to her.

"You know I hate it when you laugh at me," she sighed.

"I find you amusing," he defended. "That's a good thing."

"Zack, why don't you see with Owen can help you with your lady problems," Karen suggested with a sly look at Owen.

"Lady problems?" he wondered. Zack rolled his eyes and ducked his head.

"He's dating two girls," Gray told him plainly.

"Whoa!" Owen said, surprised. He could hear Claire's laugh from beside him. "Two girls? You dog." Claire hit his arm with the back of her hand. "I mean - that's really unfair and you should break it off with both of them. Just be alone for the rest of your life." He turned to Claire and Karen. "Better?"

"He can't decide which one to choose," Karen said, hiding a laugh behind her glass of water.

The rest of their dinner was spent with Owen trying to get Zack to give up details about his two girlfriends and answering the dinosaur questions that Gray managed to squeeze in every now and again. It hadn't escaped his notice that the two sisters were laughing, but not participating in the conversation. He would catch them whispering to each other every now and again though.

"She's nice, but man, her laugh," Zack said, shaking his head as they stood from their chairs when they were finished with their meal. "It's like nails on a chalkboard."

Owen snorted. "Alright, bad laugh. Anything else?"

"I mean, Ellie's hotter," he admitted sheepishly. "But I know, like, three guys she's been out with before."

"So?" asked Gray who was trying to interject commentary as much as he could.

"So it's _weird_ ," Zack confessed. "One of them is, like, my best friend."

"Oh," Owen groaned. "No go, man. No go. Can't date a buddy's ex girl. That's rule number one."

"I know..." Zack said with a groan. "But she's _really_ hot. Like, dude, if you saw this girl..."

"Nah, I'm not into high school chicks," Owen said. "I prefer my women legal, red headed, pale skinned, and in charge of dinosaur theme parks."

Claire turned around as she and Karen walked in front of the group and smirked at him. He held his hand up to his mouth and gasped. "I gave myself away, didn't I?"

Zack laughed and Owen felt it was another small victory, getting the guy to open up that much. "Come on, Aunt Claire," he called out. "What's wrong with Owen? Why aren't you with him?"

He saw Karen laughing as Claire muttered something Owen couldn't make out.

"Yeah, Dearing," he said as they reached the car. "What's wrong with me, huh?"

She chuckled and opened the car door. "So, _so_ much, Grady."

He laughed and took his place in the passenger seat. "We all know the truth, Dearing. I'm too much man for you."

"Yeah," she scoffed. "That's it."

"Seriously," Zack insisted, leaning forward to the front seats. "He works with raptors, he rides a motorcycle." Claire glanced at him and he nodded, both of them bemused. "He's a badass."

" _Zack_ ," Karen admonished.

"You're going to make an excellent wingman one day, my friend," Owen told him as he leaned back into his seat again.

Claire was still chuckling softly as they drove back to the hotel. He couldn't help grinning at the sound. He missed that sound. He turned to watch her as she drove for a moment. She caught his stare.

"What?" she asked.

"Marry me."

"Not a chance."

"Did he just ask her to marry him?" Gray whispered to his mom but in the quiet car it was easy to hear.

"I did, Gray," Owen said. "But she turned me down as usual."

"As usual?" Karen asked with a small laugh.

"Oh yeah, that's probably the twentieth time I've asked her."

"At least," Claire agreed.

"And she keeps turning you down?" Zack asked. "She's no good, man. Time to move on."

Claire guffawed and Owen nodded. "You're right."

"Hey!" she said indignantly, looking into the rear view mirror. "Zack, I am your _aunt_. I'm family!"

"Doesn't matter," Owen said. "Us guys look out for each other."

Claire shook her head and sighed heavily. He could still make out her smirk from the corner of his eye.

It wasn't long before they were pulling up to the hotel and parking next to Owen's motorcycle.

"Time to go home," he announced, "and drink away my sorrows now that I've been denied yet again by you're aunt."

"Oh, good, teach my kids to turn to alcohol," Karen said with humor as they exited the vehicle.

Owen smiled. "Sorry. I'm not always great with kids."

"You've done pretty well so far," she replied kindly. Zack and Claire joined Karen, Owen, and Gray on their side of the vehicle. "So, really, what's your advice for Zack?"

He caught Zack roll his eyes again. "Eh, he's young," Owen said with a shrug. "He can have his fun."

"That's what his father said," Karen said. She hardly masked her disappointment.

"Well, look," Owen began, changing tactics. "If you're trying to decide on just one to date, you should start from scratch. Because if you really cared about one of them, you wouldn't be with the other."

Zack shuffled his feet and nodded quickly, avoiding everyone's eyes. Karen smiled at Owen and rubbed a soothing hand on her son's back. A lull came over the group, and just when Owen was about to break the silence with a wise-ass crack, Gray piped up with a completely unrelated question.

"Which one is your favorite raptor?"

Claire and Karen laughed softly in relief. Owen grinned.

"I love them all like they were my children," he said. "So it's equal." He paused. "But Blue's my favorite," he admitted.

"Aw," Claire said softly. "I've always liked Echo the best."

"Her and I bonded today," Karen said proudly.

"Why don't you bring the boys upstairs," Claire suggested to her sister. "I'll be up in a minute."

"Are we going to see you again before we leave?" Gray asked Owen anxiously.

"Yeah, maybe," he said, thinking about the surprise he was trying to line up for them to see the Rex.

Gray launched himself forward and hugged Owen around the middle. He awkwardly patted him on the back. Pleasantly surprised by the reaction all the same. He offered his hand to Zack when his brother pulled away. The teen shook it with a quiet "Thanks." Karen also gave him a short hug and whispered a soft thank you into his ear.

They disappeared into the side entrance of the hotel and Claire turned to him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and giving him a small smile.

"Really, thank you for showing them the raptors today," she said finally. "And for keeping them entertained at dinner." She laughed lightly.

"Of course," he said easily. "They're nice."

She nodded and her eyes dropped to the ground. "Were you mad? That I didn't tell you about David, I mean?" She looked back up to him warily.

"No," he said immediately, knowing that was what she wanted to hear. And it wasn't that he was mad that she didn't tell him, or even that she was seeing him again. He was just caught off guard by it, and he told her so.

"I guess a good friend would have told you about it."

"You're still a good friend," he assured her.

"You're a good friend, too, you know," she said quietly.

She took a step closer to him. She had been close enough as it was, now she was within his reach. Now, if the wind blew in the right direction, he be able to smell vanilla. He could grab her, kiss her, beg her to come back to his place. Screw Browning. Screw calling them finished. Just one last time. Let his pillows and sheets smell like her again. Let him hear her pants and moans in his ear. Let him hear her beg for him.

"I'm not so sure," he said, feeling guilty from his impure thoughts.

"Why would you say that?"

He took a deep breath - he could almost taste her skin in the air. "A friend would let you go. A friend would want you to be happy with your boyfriend. And I'm...selfish," he admitted with a crooked smile. "Every time I've looked at you tonight, I've wanted to -" He cut himself off; because there was a lot he wanted to do to her and he figured her imagination could fill in the blank.

Her gaze locked with his and for a ridiculous moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. But she shook her head and dropped her gaze once more to her feet.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Being with you that way... I shouldn't have let it happen. Or maybe I should have just stopped it sooner."

"Hey, I'm not complaining." He smiled though she still wouldn't look up at him. "You'll never hear me complain that it happened. Just that it stopped." He could tell that made her smile.

"I miss it, too, sometimes."

He reached forward and put his hands just below her shoulders. "Then come back to my place tonight," he urged her, barely speaking above a whisper. "Just come over. Don't think about it."

She raised her head, and he could see she was laughing quietly to herself. "I'm with David," she said. "I'm seeing someone."

"So leave him," he said. A feeling a desperation overcame him. "Be with me instead."

Her laughing stopped. "What?"

He could barely breathe. Had he really just said that? "Be with me," he repeated - for both their sakes'. "Come on, Claire. We're good together."

She brought her hands up to push his arms away. "You don't know that," she said, taking a step back now. She was looking at him like he'd wounded her. "We've only ever had sex. It wasn't a relationship. You don't know me and I don't know you."

He did know her. He might not know the nuances of her life, but he knew how to read her moods, he knew how important her job was to her, and now he knew how she interacted with family. And she knew him too - whether she wanted to admit it or not. But she was scared, and she had always been timid about personal intimacy. And he wasn't going to win her over in the next few minutes before she went back up to the hotel suite.

"Okay," he said, giving in. He took another deep breath. "Okay."

He turn around and pulled his keys from his pocket. Fiddling with the ring, he grabbed the correct one and slid it into the ignition.

"Owen," she said hesitantly. He turned back to her slowly. "We're still...friends...right?"

He wanted to say no, that he couldn't be friends with her. He was embarrassed and ashamed at how badly he still wanted her. But she was looking up at him with those God damned nervous eyes and he didn't like seeing her like that.

"Yeah, Dearing," he said, nodding. "We're still friends."

Quickly, she moved forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I'm sorry."

He laughed. "Stop apologizing. You didn't do anything wrong," he said, pulling back from her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You're just crazy-sexy and I want you all to myself." He knew if he could make it all seem like a joke she'd feel better about it. And maybe he would too. "It'll pass."

"Good night, Owen." He saw a hint of a smile on her lips as she backed away from him. He threw her a wink as he started the engine of his bike, just before pulling out of the lot faster than he probably should have been driving.

* * *

 **What did you think of Owen's little confession? Please leave a review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Really, everyone, I'm so thrilled with the response I'm getting from this story. Thank you so much for the reviews!**

* * *

Owen didn't have much time to lick his wounds over Claire's rejection of his sudden confession of wanting to be with her. The following day Brines texted him that he wanted Owen to bring Claire and her family to paddock nine to see the t-rex's feeding later that day, which meant he needed to get in touch with her. He thought about calling Zara and have her pass the information along - but he didn't want it to look like he was avoiding Claire. He knew that would make her feel awkward and he didn't think he could take her acting like she pitied him. Because, honestly, if she was happier with Browning then that's what he wanted for her.

That didn't mean it didn't suck.

And he wasn't entirely sure _why_ it sucked as much as it did. After arriving back at his bungalow the previous night and cracking open a beer as he sat on his porch, he contemplated his relationship with her and why he had blurted out that he wanted to be with her so suddenly and without planning.

Yes, she was fantastic in bed. He couldn't help the schoolboy giddiness he felt whenever she used to pull her Mercedes up his drive, anticipating the physical pleasure he knew was to follow.

And he liked the strength and independence she showed in her career. She was a bad ass. He'd worked with her for six years; he'd seen her put a number of people in their place and hold her own. She ran the island he called home. She kept everything running smoothly - the vast majority of the time, anyway. Little incidents happened here and there which was normal for a business like theirs. She always handled those incidents with a level head and with grace in the media.

But beyond that, he decided she had a point about not knowing each other very well. He didn't know where she grew up, or where she went to college. But what was the point of all that, really? If they were compatible at the basic levels - they didn't hate each other, they didn't want to kill each other, they could hold a conversation, they had mind-blowing sex - wasn't the rest just...details?

He finished the night by drinking another beer and trying not to think about how much he wished she had just said yes.

...

He was leaning against his bike when a Jeep with the park's logo rolled up to him and Karen, Zack, and Gray climbed out. The driver waved briefly to Owen before making a three point turn and leaving on the same dirt road.

"Hey," he greeted, standing up straight. "Where's your aunt?"

"She got pulled away earlier today," Karen answered. "Something about the genetics lab losing a sample of something?"

"Uh oh," Owen said. "Is she going to make it?" He wasn't sure which answer he was hoping to hear.

"Yes," Karen replied. "She just texted and said she was five minutes out."

"Good," he said, nodding. "So what did you all do today?"

Gray launched into a monologue describing the trip to the aviary and the Mosasaur feeding show.

"Have you seen it?" he asked Owen. "The Mosasaur, I mean?"

"I have, yeah."

"It's _huge!_ "

"He knows," Zack groaned. "He just said he's seen it."

Karen shot her oldest son a sharp look.

"Is anyone going to tell us what we're doing?" Zack asked, still annoyed.

"It's a surprise," Karen answered tightly. "Just be excited."

"Whatever," he muttered.

The sound of crunching earth called Owen's attention to Claire's car pulling up the path. "There she is," he said. He picked up his phone and quickly called Brines.

"Hey, we're outside by the south wall."

" _I'll come meet you_ ," he answered.

Claire stepped out of her car, her gaze shyly shifting from Owen to her feet as she navigated the dirt in heels.

"I find myself missing those shorts, Dearing," he called teasingly.

Her lips twitched and she gave an obvious eye roll.

"I thought we agreed you were going to let her go?" Zack asked him, now suddenly in a better mood.

 _Teenagers_.

Owen smirked, still eyeing Claire as she approached them. "Yeah, she's just a hard one to get out of your system."

She opened her mouth to respond but her phone began ringing just as she was starting to speak. She sighed in agitation, quickly apologized and answered the call, taking a few steps away from the group.

"Hey, there," a voice called from a short distance. Owen turned around to see Brines walking towards them in the standard park uniform of cargos and logo embellished shirt. Owen smirked, knowing the uniform was for Claire's benefit as Brines mostly worked behind the scenes and therefore usually wore a pair of jeans, boots, and a t-shirt since he didn't interact with guests.

Brines shook Owen's hand first and then greeted the others just as Claire rejoined them.

"Nice to see you again, Miss Dearing," he said evenly. Owen could tell he was agitated with the rushed visit. "Thanks for coming," he said to Owen.

"Thanks for letting us," Karen said politely.

Brines nodded stiffly and barely smiled in her direction before turning back to Owen. "Lets get you geared up, first."

They followed Brines as he walked them to a large heavy door on the side of the paddock which lead to a concrete, bunker-like office space, similar to the one at the raptor paddock.

"Now, we're under construction, so things aren't quite as smooth as they usually are," he said, addressing Dearing. "We haven't had anything major happen, and we don't have too many concerns, but anytime we change things around, there's some level of error and...well, nervousness."

"Are you trying to tell us it's not safe?" Karen asked anxiously.

"No!" Brines said, backtracking quickly. "No, you should be fine."

"He just doesn't want to get in trouble with boss lady, here," Owen said easily. "She's making him nervous."

"Thanks, Grady," Brines grumbled and Claire sighed again and shook her head at him.

"All I'm trying to say-"

"It's not a well-oiled machine at the moment," Claire offered pointedly. "It's fine, Mr. Brines. I know this all happened unexpectedly. Safety is the top priority, however. If you aren't confident that this is safe, you're more than welcome to turn us away."

Brines glanced at Owen who raised a brow. They both knew that admitting it wasn't safe wouldn't be a smart move. But taking unnecessary risks was an even dumber one. It was a fine line to tread.

"You'll be fine. He's curious about the new observation area, though. He might take a peak inside."

"That'll make for a good show then," Owen said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah," Brines said quietly. "We'll just get you, uh, situated, Grady, then I'll have someone show you up the to the viewing area."

"Situated?" Karen asked quietly, probably addressing Claire.

Owen had expected it when Brines insisted he be there. He wasn't one hundred percent sure how Claire and the others were going to take it, though.

Brines unlocked another door with his security badge and a four digit passcode. The room was slightly larger than a closet and only he and Brines were able to fit inside. Lining the walls were rifles and ammunition, both lethal and non lethal. Brines grabbed one of the rifles and passed it to Owen, who quickly took stock of the weapon. Brines handed him two clips already loaded with bullets.

"This should go without saying, but don't shoot my baby unless you have to," he told Owen.

"I'll take as much care in front of him as you would in front of my girls," he said with a smile.

"Considering I wouldn't step foot within fifty yards of your girls, I'm not sure what that means."

"Ready?" Owen asked Claire and the others as they stepped out of the armory, smiling happily so as to ease some of the uneasiness he could see in their eyes.

"Is that really necessary?" Claire hissed to him as they began following Brines through another door which lead to an outdoor, but caged in, stairwell.

"It's just precaution," he answered quietly. "You heard what he said - he's been curious about the new observation room."

"None of that makes me feel any better, Owen," she said quietly in the same harsh whisper.

"Just relax," he told her. He glanced behind them at Gray who was clutching his mom's hand as they climbed the stairs while his nervous eyes scanned the foliage of the habitat. "You'll make them more nervous. We'll be fine."

She huffed in annoyance but didn't respond.

"You trust me, don't you?" he asked. She glanced up at him. "You don't honestly believe I'd do anything that might get you hurt?"

Her gaze softened marginally. "No, you're right."

"Of course I am."

She swatted his arm as they reached the landing.

"Alright, Willy's going to take you up the rest of the way," Brines said, beckoning a tech over to them, "then he's going to return back to his post. I'll trust Grady to give you all the safety spiel when you're up there." Owen nodded. "Great. Well, I need to get going. Enjoy, everyone."

"Come with me," the tech said.

He lead them across the landing and up another two flights of stairs. At the top was a small room made of steel and concrete. The side of the cube-like structure facing the habitat was made entirely of glass. Owen approached it, checking its thickness.

"So," Zack said slowly. "I'm guessing whatever we're going to see is pretty big."

Owen smiled excitedly, still trying to ease everyone's nerves.

"Alright. Safety," he began. "Just like when we were with the raptors, I need you all to make sure you're listening to my instructions. Best thing to do here is keep your movements to a minimum - nothing sudden. This ones so stupid, if you stay perfectly still, he can't even see you," he joked.

Gray gasped. "I know what it is!"

"Sh!" Karen hushed him with a small smile.

"Come on," Zack said. "What is it?"

"You'll see soon enough," Owen said. He pulled the gun from his shoulder and put one of the clips in.

"This is safe, right?" Karen asked. "That guy didn't sound too confident."

"We'll be fine," Owen assured them. "Just remember: no sudden movements, no loud noises. He won't care that we're here if we don't give him a reason to."

As Owen was checking the safety of the rifle was on, he felt the first small tremor of the ground as the massive t-rex moved close by. He glanced out the window behind him.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw a text from Brines.

 **We're about to shoot the flare.**

"They're about to call him," Owen said. "Let's stand a little further back." They all moved a few steps towards the back wall. Karen was clutching Gray to her front and Zack stood to her right, trying to appear relaxed but his anxious eyes told Owen otherwise.

He stood in place between Claire and Karen, about a half step in front of them. If he had to fire the weapon - and he better not have to fire that freaking weapon - he didn't want any of them in the way.

"Look!" Gray said excitedly as the flare flew into the air and arched over some trees.

"No loud noises," Karen reminded him softly.

"Plus, we all have eyes, doofus," Zack said.

The ground rumbled some more beneath their feet.

"You feel that, Gray?" Owen asked quietly.

"Yeah," the kid answered.

The trees began to visibly tremble and eventually shift as Rex made his way to his food.

Karen gasped loudly next to him as the dinosaur lumbered through the trees and into their sight. Rex's massive head lifted and his nostrils contracted as he sniffed the air around him. Slowly, with massive steps, he came into the clearing before the observation room.

"Oh, my God," Zack said, astonished.

Rex continued moving forward, he edged his way toward their block, still sniffing around.

He was cautious, Owen noticed. Even though they hadn't moved him, they'd restricted part of his habitat and added new features to the areas he was allowed in. Owen was confident Brines was fully capable of handling the transition appropriately for Rex. He hadn't heard they'd had any incidents, which is pretty typical for a construction job like the one they were experiencing. At the very least, usually the dinosaurs show some sign of emotional distress. If Rex's only problem was that he was now overly cautious, that was great news from where Owen was standing.

Rex swung his neck from one side to another, checking his surroundings and snorting. He crept toward the observation room and opened his large mouth, tasting the air. Owen held the gun a little tighter and flicked the safety off. He could see tiny movements from the corner of his left eye. Either Karen or Gray were shaking slightly, he couldn't tell which. It was a pretty common response to seeing these creatures up so close without a crowd of people around. Crowds typically give a person a sense of anonymity and safety.

The floor continued to shake as Rex shuffled ever closer to the viewing glass. His head turned, nearly blocking everything else behind it from view, and his large eye peered inside the room.

Owen felt Claire's hand clutch his arm as she moved closer to him.

Rex bowed his head and the room shook more violently than it ever had before.

"What's it doing?" Gray asked. Owen could hear the fear in his voice.

"He's just scratching his head," Owen answered.

It was true. He wasn't trying to break through the walls. He wasn't frustrated. He was simply moving his snout across the edge of the concrete, back and forth. Eventually he pulled back, gave his head a massive shake, and a satisfied growl rumbled from his chest before he slinked off in search of his promised goat.

As floor's shaking lessened, Karen let out a great sigh of relief. Owen stepped forward, Claire's hand falling from his arm, and peered out the window. Rex was waddling through the brush towards the platform the goat was chained to.

Owen turned back to the family behind him, smiling. "Well, how was that?"

"That was _awesome!_ " Gray said loudly, jumping out of his mom's clutches and running up to Owen's side to look out the window for himself.

Owen quickly flicked the safety back on the rifle and pulled the strap over his shoulder. "Come here, Zack," he called. "He's just over there." Owen pointed out the window. Claire and Karen approached too, the two laughing at how scared Karen admitted to being.

Zack and Karen took pictures of Rex as he was eating. His back was mostly to them now, and he was far enough away that they couldn't really see all the gory details of his meal.

"Well, I think your nephews probably think you're pretty cool now," Owen said quietly to Claire.

She scoffed and turned to him. "Doubt it. You're the cool one."

"Well," he said, "that much has always been obvious." She scoffed again, laughing a bit. "But you get the credit for this awesome trip they're having."

"They wouldn't have seen the raptors and the t-rex if it wasn't for you," she countered.

"I wouldn't have shown them if it wasn't for you," he said quietly.

She glanced at him again, her expression unreadable. His words could be taken two ways, he knew that. It could be a witty comeback or a proclamation of more... _feelings_.

God, _feelings_ was such a gross word.

He smiled in what he hoped was a sweet and innocent way. He wasn't trying to make her uncomfortable. He wasn't trying to push things with her. He hoped she knew that.

Zack, Gray, and Karen were distracted with talking about all they had seen as they walked back down the stairways after Willy came to the door for them. Claire and Owen followed silently behind them. At the ground floor, Owen gave back the rifle to Brines as he fielded multiple questions from Gray about Rex.

Karen pulled Claire ahead and the women left to wait outside. Owen waited around with Gray and Zack, laughing at Brines as he tried to answer all of Gray's questions as fast as he could. Then there was a small debate on who had the deadlier job, Owen or Brines. The kids happened to like Owen more, so they voted for him. Not that Owen didn't absolutely agree with the verdict.

Outside, the boys still gushed about Rex, their adrenaline still pumping strong. Owen sauntered over to the women who were whispering with smiles as he approached.

"What are you ladies talkin' about?" he asked with a charming grin.

"Our mother," Claire answered flatly.

"Oh," he said, his smiled fading. He turned to address Karen. "I don't think I ever said; I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," she said kindly. She started giggling moments later. Owen stared on, bewildered. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just, she would have hated you."

" _Hated_ me?" he repeated incredulously. Claire chuckled along with her sister. "No, mothers love me."

Claire shook her head. "Ours would have hated you."

"That's a good thing," Karen assured him. "She had horrible taste when it came to our boyfriends. Just look at the man I married. We had her blessing." She had lowered her voice so her sons wouldn't overhear.

"Ah," Owen said. "Good to know." He winked at Claire. "So you really should take me up on those proposals."

"Don't hold your breath, Grady," she teased before walking over to her nephews.

Karen cleared her throat softly. "You know," she said quietly, "we met Claire's boyfriend today."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked vaguely.

Karen nodded. "He's nice."

"Yeah, he's a pretty good guy," Owen said, trying to swallow his jealousy.

She smirked. "My mom would have liked him."

Owen caught her eye and fought a smile. "And what makes him so different from me?"

"He's a little more proper. A little more stern. He doesn't make her smile like you do, though. He doesn't make her blush."

He nodded and grinned. He glanced back over at Claire who was going through the pictures Zack had taken with him. "It's too bad that he doesn't. That's who she's chosen."

"Well, I'm going to talk to her tonight; and make sure she knows our mom would have said no to you and yes to him. Maybe that'll convince her," she said wistfully.

Owen smiled kindly. "Thanks, but if she's happy with him then that's who she should be with."

"Listen, you're the one that's better with my kids. So you're the one I'm routing for," she said matter-of-factly. "Deal with it."

He laughed. "Okay. Fair enough."

"Are we ready to go?" Karen called out. "I'm starving."

Claire and the boys came over, and the boys and Karen climbed in Claire's Mercedes.

"Thanks again, Owen," Claire said, smiling.

"Anything for you, Dearing. You know that."

She opened the door and got in the driver's seat, still smiling softly.

* * *

 **Oh, the _feels_. I'm the writer and I'm breaking my own heart.**

 **Please review! Thanks for reading!**


	13. Chapter 13

**I have not abandoned this story. I love this story. I'm sorry for neglecting it for so long. I'm finally finding time to write again so hopefully updates will be coming regularly again.**

 **Thank you to all the loyal readers!**

 **...**

Owen tapped his pen rapidly against the papers set before him, his gaze not focused on anything in particular. He was aware that the people around him were chatting quietly amongst themselves but he couldn't bring himself to listen to any of them.

He didn't understand why he was there.

Okay, yes, he knew the details. And yes, he knew that sort of thing called for an inquiry, but it all seemed a little over the top. No one got hurt, after all. It was a fucking _miracle_ no one got hurt, but even so that fact remained.

He glanced up when she walked in, all business, no reassuring smile in his direction. That probably didn't bode too well for him. He sat up a little straighter as she took her seat across the table from him. Browning walked in a moment later and took a seat to her left. Owen watched them carefully, wondering if they were still together. He'd never heard otherwise, from either Claire or the rumor mill, but that didn't mean anything. He hadn't known when they got together again either.

"Okay," Claire began, gathering everyone's attention. "I believe we're all here now. Let's begin.

"First, let me say thank you all for coming. I know this is a busy time for many of us, but this matter needed to be addressed quickly.

"Mr. Grady," she said, addressing him. "Would you like to walk us through what happened this past Thursday?"

Could he say no? he wondered.

He cleared his throat. "The raptors had just finished up a hunt with a couple of pigs," he started. "One of the pigs had outrun the girls, but we couldn't find the other. We assumed they must have gotten to it and ate it where we couldn't see. I ran through a few quick commands with them and then left the bridge." He'd rehearsed this speech with Barry and he had a feeling it showed. "A few minutes after I left the bridge, some of the techs started shouting about a loose pig." He shifted in his seat. "One of the techs, a new kid, he tried to catch the pig with a collar but the pig was running too fast for him, I guess, and he fell over the railing on the bridge into the paddock."

There were small mutterings and little gasps here and there.

"A man fell into the raptor pit?" someone asked to clarify.

Owen nodded. "Yes. And naturally, the girls were interested. The ACU stormed the bridge to stun the raptors, but I..." He looked up and saw Claire giving him rapt attention. "Well, I couldn't let that happen. So I went in."

"Sorry," another man said. "You're saying you went _inside_ the pit?"

"Yes."

"And this happened last Thursday?" another asked.

"That's right."

"How did you make it out of there alive?" Browning asked, seemingly impressed.

"Oh, you should have seen it," Hoskins said from the side of the conference room. "He's got those puppies trained."

"Was it training or surprise that stopped them, Mr. Grady?" Claire asked pointedly.

"Probably a bit of both," he admitted. "I like to think that being their alpha, though, made them more hesitant to attack."

"Well, of course-!" Hoskins began loudly before Claire cut him off with a raised hand.

"Let's hear the rest before we make judgment," she said. "What happened next, Mr. Grady?"

His lips tugged up a bit. "I was able to get the girls to focus on me. The tech was able to leave the paddock and I...followed."

"Just like that?" she asked knowingly.

"More or less," he answered with a coy smirk.

"Thank you, Mr. Grady," Claire said. She glanced at someone down the table to his left and nodded. "If everyone could turn their attention to the screen," she waved a hand at the projection screen on the wall, "we'll take a look at what he means by 'more or less.'" She raised a confident brow at him, then let her gaze drift to the screen which began playing video surveillance of the raptor paddock.

Owen watched himself on the screen as he ran into paddock and stopped the girls from advancing on the tech. He watched as the tech scurried toward the gate and Barry. It was only a moment or so before Barry started closing the gate and Owen was walking backwards in its direction before finally turning and rolling under the nearly closed gate door.

"Thank you, Lowery," Claire said and the video stopped playing.

"You can't tell me you aren't impressed," Hoskins said haughtily.

"Impressed or not, what happened there showed a serious lack of precaution," she countered. "Did no one else notice the gate was left open with more techs and ACU vulnerable to attack?"

"I had ACU on the bridge," Owen argued. "If the girls didn't respond to me, they would have stunned them."

"Yes, but at that point, Mr. Grady, you might not have survived."

There was a fire in her eyes. She was upset with him. It was more than just a boss and employee dynamic at play, he noticed.

Regardless, he laughed incredulously. "I've been working with a pack of velociraptors. Every _day_ could have been my last. But that's what I was hired to do. You wanted to see if someone could train the raptors, to see if they could be tamed enough to show to the public. _This_ ," he pointed to the screen, "is a step in the right direction. You want them to listen. You want them to respond. You want to know that if something like that does ever happen again, we have a shot of all making it out alive."

"Yes, but that sort of thing should have been tested in a more controlled environment," a man down the table insisted.

" _More controlled?_ " Owen repeated. "Listen, there's never going to be a time when we are fully in control. Not when it comes to the raptors. They're too smart for it."

"It seems like gross negligence to leave the gate open," someone else said.

"If I closed the gate, the tech and I wouldn't be alive today."

"You risked more lives."

"Should I have let the kid die?" he asked finally, loudly.

What the hell was wrong with these people?

"Why did the tech fall?" Claire asked. "What should have happened?"

He sighed. "It's no one's fault."

"What should have happened?" she repeated.

"He should have let the pig go," Owen answered.

"Why didn't he?"

He rolled his eyes. "He's new. He didn't realize what could happen. He's been told we take care of the pigs; we don't want them eaten if we can help it because it's an expense we can't always afford."

"So what do we do to remedy this?" she asked. "What are the steps to ensure this doesn't happen again?"

"Well, obviously, safety has to be stressed as the top priority," a woman mentioned.

"It is," he said softly, more so to himself.

"Could we build the railings higher on the bridge?" someone suggested. "Or even cage it in."

There were mutterings of agreement. Owen shook his head but didn't verbally respond. He hoped his time speaking was done.

"I think you all are missing what a great opportunity this is," Hoskins interjected, standing this time to draw everyone's attention. "The raptors are trainable. They respond to humans. We have control over them."

Owen wanted to throttle him.

"We need to keep that momentum. We need to keep pushing them; make sure they know who's boss. Think of all we could do. Think of all the benefits."

"Yes, Mr. Hoskins, we know what you would like to see happen with the program," Claire said tiredly. "Unfortunately for you, that's ages away."

"Not at the rate he's going," he said, pointing to Owen. "You all are sitting in here, digging in on him for making progress - _massive_ progress." He hiked up his pants and chuckled that God-awful superior chuckle. "I know you're not thinking of getting rid of him. He's the only one that's been able to do it."

"No one was suggesting that," Claire said. Owen could see her frustration growing. "This meeting is to discuss the possible precautions, the policies that might-"

"Always policies with you suits, isn't it?" Hoskins interrupted.

"It's how a business in run, Hoskins. Now kindly, sit _down_." It was a testament to Claire's power that a pig like Hoskins would take orders from her. "We're just about finished anyway," she said as he sat back down. "Unless anyone else has anything to add?"

She said it politely enough, but Owen was pretty sure she'd just scared everyone into staying quiet.

"Very well, then." She shuffled the papers in front of her. "Mr. Grady, moving forward, I would like you to have a meeting with your staff about this incident and review the park's safety procedures with them." He nodded, thinking he didn't actually have the time for that. "I would like Andrew and Marissa," she glanced at those she indicated, "to look into the cost of building the rails higher. We'll start there."

People started gathering their belongings, sensing the coming conclusion of the meeting.

"Thank you again everyone. Let's get back to work."

Everyone stood and shuffled about as they mingled and left the conference room. Owen watched Claire and Browning from the corner of his eye. Browning rubbed a hand down Claire's arm then left the room.

"Mr. Grady," she called to him. "I'd like a word in my office."

Her tone was firm. She wasn't taking no for an answer. He sighed and made his way with her down the hall to her office. Zara smiled softly to him as he passed her desk.

Once in her office, Claire shut the door behind them. She didn't make her way to her desk, so he didn't move to the chairs in front of it.

"So?" she asked.

"So...?" He turned to her, confused. "What's up?"

"Did you really not get hurt?" she asked, speaking barely above a whisper.

"No. You saw the video," he said with a small laugh. "They didn't touch me."

She took a step forward, reaching her hands out to his arms. She grabbed hold of him as her eyes roamed his body, looking for any sign of injury. "But they could have."

"But they didn't." He pulled away from her and walked to her desk, leaning against the edge. "You get how big that it, right? Hoskins' not wrong." Those words left a bad taste in his mouth. "It is massive progress."

She began walking slowly towards him.

"And building the railings higher is only going to impede my ability to train them," he argued. "The only reason it happened was because the kid was new. He was nervous." She stood in front of him. "I'd love to only ever hire people with prior raptor handling experience, but those applicants are pretty hard to come by."

"Don't go in there again," she said softly.

He was caught off guard. "What?"

"You could have been killed." She raised her hands to his face, holding his cheeks and then let them slide to his neck and chest. "I don't want to ever get that phone call, okay?"

"I don't want you to either," he said. "But isn't that the ultimate goal? To have them socialized and able to work with humans?"

She shook her head. "They're too dangerous."

"I'll be okay," he placated. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away from him. She was with Browning, wasn't she? "Is that the word you wanted to have with me?"

She nodded, her eyes wide. "Owen," she said with a sigh. "I just want you to be safe."

"I know."

She stared into his eyes and he felt frozen to the spot as she very so slowly leaned closer to him. He watched as her gaze fell to his lips just before hers met his. Her hands were back on his chest, his still wrapped around her wrists but not doing much in the way of stopping her.

It was a short kiss. Not chaste, but not indecent either. She pulled back after teasing him with her taste. And he could have taken her right there on her desk if there wasn't a dull sort of ache in his chest.

"Are you still with Browning?" he breathed. She didn't answer but her face gave her away. "Then why are you kissing me?"

"I miss you." He wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't so close.

"Yeah, well," he said, stepping away from her, "I asked."

She nodded. "I know."

"And you said no."

"I know."

"Then what the hell are you doing, Claire?"

"I don't know." Her voice was steady, her gaze was not.

There was a knock on her door. "Hey, Claire?" It was Browning. "Do you have a minute?"

Her eyes widen and shifted to his. He rolled his own and made his way to the door, opening it quickly.

"She's all yours, man," he said gruffly as he left.

...

 **Thank you so much for reading! Please review with your thoughts!**


	14. Chapter 14

**An even shorter chapter than the last one, sorry. I promise to have the next on up this week!**

* * *

It was only four days until he saw her again. She surprised him, showing up with a couple of engineers at the paddock. She pointedly asked to speak to him in his office. He noticed Barry's knowing smirk as they passed him. It made Owen want to punch something.

"You didn't tell me you were coming," he said gruffly when he'd closed the door behind him. He walked to his desk and sat down quickly in his chair.

"I thought you might find an excuse to leave if you knew I was," she explained, "and I wanted to talk to you."

He thrummed his fingers on his desk. He shrugged, "What about?"

"About what happened...what I did." She stood up straighter. She was stiff, but not overly nervous.

"You mean you kissing me?" he said flatly, hoping to get under her skin.

She stared at him, her stare _almost_ blank but he could see a fire behind her eyes. It nearly made him smile.

"Yes," she answered tightly. "I wanted to apologize." Her hands fidgeted as she held them together in front of her skirt. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

He stood, now really trying to hide his smirk. She was just too much damn fun to stay mad at. He made his way over to stand before her.

"You didn't make me uncomfortable," he said, his tone mildly patronizing. "I just don't like being teased with something I can't have."

They locked eyes and he thought he saw her almost smile before she glanced down at his lips. He looked off to the side and took a step back to lean against his desk. He didn't need her kissing him again while she was involved with another man.

"So what's with the engineers?" he asked to change the subject. He folded his arms across his chest, feeling a little defensive.

"They're checking out the bridge," she said after a moment's pause, "to see what it would take to raise the railings."

He nodded, still not loving that idea. She glanced around his office and started walking around, taking in the stacks of files and few books he had scattered about.

"Have you gone over the safety procedures with the techs like I asked?"

"Uh, yeah," he lied, his voice a little higher than usual. "Yeah, they took it all in. I think we're good."

He saw her roll her eyes just before completely turning her back on him. "So when will you actually be having that meeting?"

He sighed. "I don't know. I'll try to make time next week."

"It's important, Owen," she stressed, turning back to him.

"I know it is," he defended. "Listen, my guys know what they're doing. What happened was just a stupid mistake. One stupid mistake by a new kid."

"We can't allow sloppiness to go unpunished," she argued.

"So now I have to _punish_ them?"

"Well, what else would you call having to listen to the safety procedures all over again?" The corners of her lips lifted in the smallest of smirks.

Oh, she was making a joke.

He shook his head and smiled, looking down at his feet. "Oh, Dearing."

"What's wrong, Grady?" she asked with humor.

He could hear the clicking of her heels as she walked towards him. The toes of her shoes came into his line of sight.

"Owen," she called to him softly. He lifted his head and smiled lazily. "I still want to be your friend."

He paused to take a deep and long breath. He stood and placed both hands on her arms. "Claire Dearing wants to be my friend," he said quietly. "And all I want to do is marry the hell out of her." His face broke into a smile as she gave a muted laughed.

"I've missed your fake proposals," she said, still chuckling.

"You're the only one calling them fake," he teased.

She hummed. "So we're okay?"

"We're okay, Dearing," he agreed, stepping back from her with a nod and a reassuring smile. What else could he say? "But all bets are off if you go kissing me again."

He stepped back around his desk. He could only take being so close to her for so long. His chest was tight. He felt short of breath.

"Oh," she laughed. "And what does that mean?"

"It means, boyfriend be damned, is what it means."

He could see she was biting her cheek as she tried to reign in her smile.

"Well, I'll try to remember to restrain myself."

He sat back in his chair and pulled his hands behind his head. "You can try," he said with a wink.

She smirked and turned to leave. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. Grady."

"You too, Dearing."

She opened the door and started, seeing Barry on the other side apparently about to knock on the door. Owen's smile immediately dropped. Claire excused herself and stepped around Barry who watched and waited until the door to the outside of the building closed behind her before stepping into Owen's office.

"What's up?" Owen asked casually.

Barry shrugged, his smug smirk never ceasing. "Just wondering if you wanted to get drinks tonight?"

"Sure," he said quickly, pretending to read some papers on his desk.

"You're sure you don't have any other plans?" he asked tauntingly.

"I'm sure," he said confidently. "You know if I did or had the hope of other plans, I'd ditch you in a heartbeat."

"You're a great friend," he said flatly.

Owen chuckled and looked back up. "Are you ever going to let this go? There's nothing going on with me and Dearing." _Anymore_.

Barry threw his hands up defensively. "Whoa, I never said you had something with her."

"Whatever," Owen grumbled. "Sunrio?"

"Eight-thirty," he confirmed with a nod before closing the office door behind him.

...

"I'll make a deal with you," Barry bargained later that night after they each had a few drinks. "I'll cover two day shifts for you, whenever you want, no questions asked, if you just...come out with it." He said it so nonchalantly that Owen had to smirk at the attempt.

"You don't know her," he lied.

"See, I think I do. Otherwise you wouldn't be so secretive."

He shrugged defensively. "She wanted it to be a kept quiet," he insisted.

"Why? What does it matter? Is she married? Is she ashamed of you?"

He clenched his jaw and avoided his eyes as his friend's postulating hit a little too close to home.

"Alright," Barry conceded softly. "I'm sorry. Soft spot. I get it."

Owen shook his head. "It's fine," he deflected. He threw back the shot sitting before him and chased it with a sip of his beer.

"Yes, clearly," Barry teased.

"Look, she wanted it to be private. I respected that because...because she was really fucking hot." Barry snorted into his beer and Owen smiled. "And she was a fantastic fuck. But it's over now. She called it off."

"Then I would argue that the statute of limitations on keeping a secret of a relationship has expired and you are thereforE able to tell your very dear best friend who you've been _fucking_ , as you so eloquently put it, for, what's it been, now - a year?"

"You love talking out of your ass, don't you?"

Barry laughed and nodded to the bartender who asked if they wanted another round.

"You know I know who it was," he said after a moment. His tone was light enough, though he was trying to be serious now.

Owen shook his head and still avoided his gaze.

"I mean, it's still mind-boggling to me how you could have possibly _ever_ been with her, but you weren't subtle about it the few times I saw you together."

"Well, you're the only who knew, as far as I know," Owen said, fidgeting with the label on his beer bottle. "You can't mention it to anyone."

"I won't," Barry assured him. "I'm sorry it ended for you, my friend."

"Nah," he said with another shrug. "It had to end sometime."

Another wave of silence passed over them as they watched the TVs above the bar.

"Hey," Barry said finally, raising his beer to his friend. "She didn't deserve you."

Owen chuckled, raising his own bottle to cheers. "Yeah, sure. We'll go with that."

After taking a sip, Barry clasped him on the back and they went back to watching the infomercials playing on the screen.

* * *

 **Please review!**


	15. Chapter 15

" _Ow!_ You son of bitch," Owen hissed as he fought with the pteranodon he was wrestling into a cage.

Barry laughed. "I wish I was videotaping that."

Owen locked the cage door and ran a hand over his nose where the prehistoric bird had hit him with its vast wing.

"God, if it's not the teeth, it's the claws. If it's not the claws, it's the damned wings," he grumbled. He turned to his friend. "Get to work, won't you? How many have you done?"

"Eight."

"Bull shit," Owen said. "I've only don't five."

"And you've got another forty to go," Franklin Thomas, the lead handler at the aviary said, walking past them with a pterodactyl tucked securely under his arm. "The storm is supposed to be here in five hours and I'm not even halfway done."

The storm, currently a category four hurricane (expected to downgrade to a three by the time it hit, thank God), was the cause of much frenzied panic over the last week. Field and park maintenance had gone around the whole island and cleared out dead foliage and temporary signs to limit the amount of possible projectiles from the expected high winds. The vets had made special visits to each paddock and were coming by again to most to give the dinosaurs mild sedatives to help them remain calm during the storm since many, like the birds and the raptors, would be caged up for an unusually long period of time while they waited for the storm to pass. Sand bags and five gallon jugs of water had been coming in on the ferries from the mainland all week long and distributed to the paddocks. The Hammond Ballroom at the hotel had been converted into a shelter for the remaining guests (they were down to sixty-three percent occupancy, last Owen had heard, which was ridiculously low for them but also meant they had less people to worry about).

Owen had been in and out of meetings all week with other lead handlers, engineers, and the ACU. Everyone always freaked out about the raptors and the t-rex during these storms but they were honestly the easiest ones to handle, aside from the Mosasaurus, maybe. The raptors got locked in cave-like cage made to look like a nest at the back of their paddock and they usually slept the whole way through after getting their sedatives. And Rex never gave two shits about the weather. So Owen and Barry usually volunteered where ever they were needed to make sure the other paddocks were taken care of before storm hit.

Claire had been at many of the meetings; Browning occasionally making an appearance too. Owen could never tell if they were still together. They were never really affectionate. He figured they must be, though, because she sure as hell wasn't rolling around between the sheets with him. He couldn't help but think she still seemed interested in him, though. He tried to take his observations with a grain of salt, knowing he could very well be seeing what he wanted to see. Although she had definitely been flirty when she'd pulled him aside after one meeting to ask where he would be holed up during the storm.

"Don't tell me you're staying in that tin can you call a home," she had said.

He smirked. "Are you concerned for my safety, Miss Dearing?"

"I'm concerned my raptor trainer may be blown away," she replied with a raised brow.

"Oh, believe me, Dearing," he placed a hand on his chest, "you've blown _your_ raptor trainer away plenty of times."

She chuckled and shook her head. "You need to stop flirting with me."

"Hey, you're the one pulling me aside for these secret meetings where you show concern for my safety."

"Just answer the damn question, Grady," she sighed. "Where will you be during the storm?"

He shrugged, his smile fading. "I'll either be drinking in my office with Barry or drinking in Brines' office with him."

She nodded, ignoring the drinking comment. "Gilles was thinking you might be useful in Control."

"The hell does he care where I am?" he questioned indignantly.

Claire smiled. "He wants you on his team."

"He wants me to join the ACU?" he asked incredulously. "Hell no!"

She rolled her eyes. "You could replace him as head in less than a year if you wanted."

"I don't care," he said, deciding not to dwell on the fact that she'd obviously thought about him taking the position. "I have the girls."

"Barry could take over."

"Barry would kill me in my sleep if I left him to train them now. They're too old for that sort of change."

Claire shook her head and avoided his stare. "Okay," she said, appearing to give up. "Regardless, will you consider staying at Control? I think he's right. Your expertise will be handy if any of the assets get out of containment."

He regarded her with a carefully composed expression. "Where will you be?" he asked quietly.

Her lips twitched as she stared up at him. "I'll be in Control," she answered, and there was so much seduction in her voice he nearly groaned.

"And where will, uh..." he glanced behind him to see who was still around, "your boyfriend be?"

"He'll be in the Hammond Ballroom overseeing the guests." She cocked her head to one side. "Why does that matter?" she asked tauntingly. At least that answered the question of whether or not they were still together.

"Just don't want to accidentally walk in on the two of you in a closet somewhere."

She smiled coyly. "Have no fear, Grady." She patted his shoulder as she began walking past him. "You're the only one I've fucked during work," she whispered.

So that explained why, after helping Frank with his damn birds and grabbing some supplies from his trailer, he was heading over to Control to wait out the storm.

"Do we really have forty more?" Barry groaned as they climbed the stairs from the underground cages to the aviary dome where other handlers were luring the giant winged beasts with fish and other treats into an area separated from the rest. "What are the real chances of that glass breaking? Isn't it bullet proof?"

Owen shrugged. "We don't like to take chances, I guess." He pulled the leather and hide gloves further up his arms and walked toward the bird they had recently cornered. "Alright, Frank, what's the trick? Do I have to sing it a song or something?" he joked.

...

 **Where are you?**

He got her text just as he arrived at his trailer. The clouds were rolling in and the wind was picking up. It had only just started to drizzle.

He'd stopped by the raptor paddock and verified the girls were in the cave and doing well. Barry had the video monitors up in the staff locker room as he, the handful of other handlers, and ACU guards would be staying in there for the storm. Some of them had the good idea of stocking up on drinks and snacks and they'd even set up a poker table. Owen was mildly jealous that they'd probably have a good time hanging out while he'd be with the stiffs in Control. The one silver lining was maybe Claire would be flirty with him like she was the other day.

 **At my place** , he answered.

 **You're still coming to Control, right?**

 **I don't know. I'm thinking I might stick around here. Make sure my house doesn't blow away.**

He was kidding. The hurricane was a strong category three. He'd be an idiot to stay. He and Barry had tied the trailer down with straps yesterday and he still wasn't sure that would be enough to hold the damn thing in place.

 **I will drive over there myself and drag you to Control** , she threatened.

 **Relax. I'm just getting a few things from here. I'll be on my way soon.**

He was packing up a small bag with a change of clothes and some toiletries. If the his trailer did collapse or blow away or rip open and flood everything, he didn't want to be left completely stranded with nothing.

 **You can park your bike in the loading bay. Hurry. The roads are getting muddier by the minute.**

He wasn't taking his time. He wasn't so sentimental about his possessions that he needed to take a sad look around. He just hoped the following night he'd have a roof over his bed when we slept.

...

A loading bay door was already opened when he arrived at Control. An ACU trooper waved him inside and when Owen cut the engine the trooper told him Dearing had given them a heads up that he'd be parking there.

"Grady! Glad to have you here," Mark Gilles, head of ACU greeted him as the bay door was closing. "Looks like you got a little wet coming in," he joked. Owen chuckled good-naturedly and pulled the soaked through shirt away from his skin. "We've got some spare sets of uniforms if you want to change." Gilles began leading him to an office next to some parked tactical SUVs.

"I'm fine," Owen declined, patting the bag he had with him.

"Nah, don't mess up your own clothes. If we have a problem and need to go out, you can save those for after," Gilles said. He paused when he opened the door to the office. "That is why you're here, right? To help out if we need it?"

Owen nodded curtly. "Dearing suggested it to me." He didn't feel like bringing up Gilles' hope that he'd join the ACU. "I'm happy to help where I can."

"Great. Pants are in there," he nodded to a door on their left. "Shirts and jackets are in the next one over. Weapons, if we need them, are locked behind there." He pointed to another door on the right. "There's bathrooms and showers down the hall." He jerked a thumb to point behind them. "You can change and get cleaned up in there. Then come upstairs. We're monitoring everything from the Control Room."

Owen nodded and thanked Gilles before he left. He'd never been inside the Control Room - he'd only ever caught glimpses of it as he walked by the guarded doors when others were entering or leaving. Claire's office and the conference rooms where down the hall from the entrance.

He washed his face and dirt-splattered arms in the sink before changing into the tactical-like clothing. The black pants and black shirt with the grey park logo over the breast were a little too "assasin-for-hire" for his taste, but they were clean and dry. And Gilles was right; if they needed to go out in the storm in a hurry, he'd rather have something thick like that to wear than the jeans he'd packed.

He mussed with his hair in the stairwell. He'd had to dry it with paper towels because he couldn't find any cloth ones. It was still dripping down his neck. He pulled on the jacket he'd grabbed and hitched his bag back on his shoulder.

The Control Room door was left open for anyone to walk in and out. At this point, Owen figured, only essential personnel were left in the building anyway. The room reminded him of space movies like Apollo 13 where NASA ground control sat and looked over everything. In fact, it was exactly like that, split level flooring and all, with the exceptions that the computers were more high tech to what had been in the movies and it was dark. He would have thought the power had gone out if it wasn't for the giant wall of screens flickering with images of the island and the fact that it was this dark every time he'd passed by the room in the past.

He spotted Claire off to the side and he smirked as he made his way to her as she spoke with someone else. She caught his eye but quickly glanced away.

"Grady," Gilles called, stepping into his line of sight from seemingly nowhere. "There's some refreshments over there." He pointed to a small area walled off by glass to the right of the large screens. "Help yourself to whatever you like. You can park anywhere down there." He gestured to the rows of mostly unoccupied monitors.

"Thanks," he said, trying to peek inconspicuously around him to see Claire. "You don't, uh, need anything from me right now?"

"No. Everything's pretty much set. All battle stations manned," he joked. Owen got the feeling he was trying to be overly personable. "Just help keep an eye on the screens with the others. If you see anything out of the ordinary, let someone know." He patted him on the shoulder before leaving him be.

Owen glanced back to where Claire had been but she was gone. He looked around the room and found her just as she was exiting through the doorway, headed in the direction of her office if he had to hazard a guess. He thought about following her, but decided he should play it cool. Sure, she flirted with him, but she was still with another man. And he still had an ounce left of his pride that he'd like to hang on to if at all possible. She'd asked him to stay at Control during the storm, and that was what he was going to do. If she didn't want to socialize, fine.

 _So much for being friends, though_ , he thought haughtily as he tossed his bag down beneath a desk one row down from the main floor and took a seat.

" _Psst_ ," a voice behind him hissed. "Hey. Uh, hey, man." Owen turned in his chair and saw a scruffy man with large glasses staring at him from the row directly behind him. "I just wanted to say- Well, I was in the meeting, your disciplinary meeting-" he fumbled. "Not that you were disciplined. But, uh, with the raptors, when you went in and saved that kid."

"Oh," Owen said, realizing now what he was talking about and nodded briefly in recognition.

"I just wanted to say that was...just, _bad ass_ , man. Really."

Owen nodded again, amused. "Thanks."

"I'm Lowery." The man stuck out his hand over his monitor.

"Owen," he replied, shaking his hand.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know," Lowery said awkwardly. "I've watched you on screen. Not that I- It's not _you_ , really- It's not, like, a creepy thing, or anything." He laughed in a hilariously uncomfortable way. "I just think the raptors are cool and you're cool. I mean, what you're doing with them is cool. I'm sure you're cool, too." He closed his eyes and hung his head like he was embarrassed and annoyed with himself. Owen knew well the feeling but rarely showed it so blatantly.

"It's okay," he said, chuckling. "That's nice. Thanks, man." Lowery looked up, relieved. "So what is it you do here?" Owen asked.

"Oh, I, uh, basically monitor everything. We coordinate with the ACU and guest security, keep track of the animals, that sort of thing."

Owen nodded. "Cool. Alright." He nodded again and turned around to look at the screens on the wall.

"Yeah..." he heard Lowery say half-heartedly.

"Geez," a woman's voice whispered tauntingly. "Fanboy much?"

"Shut up," Lowery grumbled.

Owen chuckled again and tried to focus again on the different video feeds.

"So, you have the raptor paddock up here somewhere?" he asked, turning his head slightly while his eyes still scanned the many feeds.

"Yeah." He heard some taps and one of larger display screens switched from the ferry dock to one of the cameras at the paddock.

"Do you have the feed from inside the cave?"

Another couple of taps and the girls popped up in a grainy, low light picture. Delta and Echo were huddled together, appearing to already be napping, while Blue was scratching herself against the wall of the concrete cave and Charlie was sniffling along the ground.

He settled back into his chair, feeling a bit more relaxed knowing his girls are still safe.

"I have to switch to different feeds," Lowery said in apology. "But they'll stay up in the corner to the left."

The screen switched to a view of the Valley, trees blowing this way and that. The rain made for poor visibility. Owen found the small square that showed the cave and glanced at the surrounding screens that showed the rest of the paddock.

He nodded to show he understood and looked to the far right of the wall where radar and weather maps showed the storm rolling in. It looked like they would have a break in the rain soon as a feeder band passed.

...

After an hour of watching the weather steadily worsen on the videos, he got up to stretch his legs. He wasn't used to sitting for so long in the dark. His eyes were beginning to hurt. It was going to be a long few hours, he decided. Eventually he made his way back to his seat and leaned back, pulling his legs up to rest on the empty chair next to him. He closed his eyes, wondering if maybe he could sleep through the quiet buzz of activity.

" _Paddock Two just lost power_ ," a fuzzy voice said over a radio.

"Paddock Two," the same woman who had teased Lowery earlier said. "They're on Grid D."

"What else is on Grid D?" Owen asked, knowing that Paddock Two was the Gentle Giants paddock. All the young herbivores used in the petting zoo lived there until they were old enough to be let out in the Valley with the much larger adults.

"Just some of the rides and restaurants. Nothing we need to worry about," Lowery answered. "We have backup generators that send emergency power to the cameras and essential systems when the power goes out."

"Grid B just flickered," the woman said again.

"That's the Mosasaurus attraction and the hotels," Lowery said. "Just a flicker though. Just enough to freak out all the guest in the ballroom," he said with a laugh.

...

 **Having fun?**

The vibration spooked him from his half-dozed state as his phone buzzed on the desk.

 **Loads** , he answered. **You?**

 **I've been able to catch up on paperwork. So that's nice.**

The screens in front of him flashed brightly with lightning.

"Whoa," Lowery said. "And there goes Grid B."

" _We just lost power in the ballroom_ ," a voice crackled through the radio again. Owen thought it sounded like Browning.

"Copy that," Vivian said (he'd finally bothered to find out her name after the nearly two hours of hearing her and Lowery bicker). "How is everyone holding up?"

" _We're fine. Some crying kids but nothing major,"_ he answered. " _What about with the rest of the park?_ "

"Nothing exciting," Claire said, her voice surprising Owen who turned around saw her standing by Vivian. She released a comm button and eyed the screens.

"Do we have eyes on the pachys?" she asked.

Lowery pulled up the Lower Plains video feed. It was difficult to see but through the haze of rain they could make out shapes moving about.

"Are they all accounted for?"

Lowery checked something that Owen could see. "Yep. So far everything's been quiet."

"What about Mr. Grady's raptors?" she asked with an air of kindness. Owen smiled, waiting for the girls to show up on screen.

All four raptors were laying down, cuddled closely together. Echo's leg was twitching as she slept.

"Aw," Vivian cooed. "That's the cutest I've ever seen them look."

"You should have seen them when they were babies," Owen said, reminiscing. They laid like that all the time growing up.

"And how about Paddock Nine? How's the new construction holding up?"

Lowery pulled up a new feed that showed windblown trees but Rex was nowhere to be seen. He scanned through a few more screens showing the walls of the paddock but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"Good," Claire said. "And the storm? How much longer are we expected to be in it?"

"It's slowed down some," someone Owen hadn't learned the name of spoke up. "A few more hours at least."

She sighed. "Alright, well, hopefully everything will stay running smoothly."

" _We lost power at the raptor paddock_ ," a slightly panicked voice came over the radio.

"Raptors are on Grid E," Lowery said. "That's everything on the northeast side of the island." He pulled up a map that showed the island split into the seven separate power grids. A large clap of thunder shook the room.

"Pull up the cave again," Owen said while standing, suddenly worried that they might have gotten out.

The girls were awake now and all standing. Blue and Charlie were pacing while Echo and Delta were snapping their jaws and shaking their heads.

"The thunder probably woke them up," Vivian said in an appeasing tone.

"You can see that the paddocks are all still locked, right?" Owen asked, turning to Lowery.

"Yeah," he insisted. He looked down at his monitor. "Everything's still in order. That's why we have backup generators."

"Backups can fail," Owen muttered, turning back to the screen.

"Hey!" someone piped up to Owen left. "What's that? Camera twelve."

Lowery moved camera twelve to the larger screen.

"A tree fell down," Claire said.

And for a moment it looked like that was all it was. But then a shape started moving.

"What is that?" Lowery mumbled. A map of the area was pulled up next to the screen which showed the asset trackers.

"Is that a triceratops?" Gilles asked.

"Anklyosaurus," Lowery corrected having located a small pack in the area of the fallen tree. "It's still alive."

"Where is that?" Gilles asked, stepping up to Lowery's monitor.

"Northern end of the Valley. By the Lazy River Run," Vivian answered sharply.

"Get a clear path. Hamada," Gilles called out. "Gear up. Grady, you're with them. Hamada's lead commander out there." He pointed to another trooper as Owen stood and grabbed the jacket he'd discarded. "Take the trailer. You might have to bring it to the Ark."

The Ark was what they called the vet building. Owen thought the name was a little cutesy but Angie, the raptor's vet had always been a fan of it.

"For _one_ Ankylosaur?" Owen mumbled when he got closer to Claire. It seemed unnecessarily dangerous to send a team out in a hurricane to save one dinosaur.

Claire raised a brow. "That's a four million dollar asset," she said evenly.

" _Four mil-!_ " Owen gaped then whistled. "Is it's skeleton made of _gold?_ "

She smirked before her expression turned serious. "Be careful," she breathed.

He nodded and fixed the collar of his jacket.

"Keep up, Grady," the trooper named Hamada griped as he was leaving the Control Room.

Back on the ground floor Hamada gave Owen a flash light, ear piece, and wrist watch.

"Are we synchronizing these, or...?" he asked confused while putting it on his wrist all the same.

"It tracks your heart rate. They monitor it up there," Hamada answered curtly. "The ear piece has a camera on it, too. They see what you see. So don't wear it when you piss."

Owen smiled at the man's gruffness. "I bet you're fun to have a beer with."

"I don't drink alcohol," he answered before grabbing a weapon with non lethal ammo to hand him.

In the truck Hamada turned to him. "Ankylo's are tough. Have you ever dealt with one before?"

Owen shook his head, his eyes hardly leaving the very limited few of the road through the sheet of rain. He hoped the guy driving was experienced. "Only when they were little guys." They had to shout to be heard over the noise of the storm.

"Us three have the tranqs," a trooper announced, pointing to two others including Hamada. "We have to shoot it in its soft skin."

"How?" Owen asked, knowing those things were basically like tanks.

"If we're lucky the soft skin will be exposed from it being trapped by the tree. Otherwise it'll be tricky," Hamada said. "There were more of them around according to the tracking map. We'll have to be careful of those too."

"Just watch out for their tales," one of them said. "And the spikes on their sides."

"They can't climb worth a damn so get on top of something if you have to get away. Just make sure it's higher than they can swing their tails."

Owen nodded. He was a little nervous. He still thought the raptors must be worse, surely. They would eat him if given the chance. These guys were herbivores. Just...herbivores that would bash his head in and impale him if they needed, he reminded himself. He took a deep breath as lightning lit up the ever darkening sky.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you so much for the kind reviews coming in. You're all so wonderfully inspiring. I can't wait to share the rest of this story with you.**

* * *

"Control, come in," the trooper driving said into the radio as he started the engine.

" _Control, go ahead._ "

"Asset is secured at the Ark. We're making our way back to you."

" _Copy that. Storm downgraded to a cat two but it's still slowing down._ "

"This shit's going to be over us all night," Hamada grumbled looking out the window. He glanced over his shoulder to the troopers behind him. "Silvera, you doing okay?"

"I'm fine," the trooper said through clenched teeth. Owen looked back too and saw Silvera's hand clenched over his thigh.

"It's going to be hell driving back. The mud's only gotten worse," Hamada warned. "She gave you pain meds, right?"

"Yeah," Silvera hissed.

The small herd of ankylosaurs had been easily scared off when they arrived, leaving just the one trapped beneath the branches of the fallen tree. With the gusty winds nearly knocking them off their feet and the rain pelting at them feeling like dulled razors, it was no easy feat. The setting sun was hidden behind the blanket of dark clouds but there was still some visibility. Silvera had the chainsaw going and was cutting away at the branches to clear a path to the trapped dinosaur. Hamada was able to get a clear enough shot at its soft skin and hit it with the tranquilizer dart, and after a minute or so the animal's panicked cries muted and it's sleepy eyes closed. Silvera continued cutting through the wood and other members of the team shifted the discarded branches away.

The hard part was getting the now passed out dinosaur - that weighed about as much as the SUV they drove there - onto the trailer. There was a wench on the back of the SUV that they rigged up to help with the pulling. At the foot of the trailer, though, it was up to the six men there to heave that lump of spike and bone onto the bed.

Owen thought it was going pretty well, considering they were standing in the middle of a hurricane and branches from the shredded tree were starting to blow everywhere and a few of them jumped out of their skins every time a bomb-like clap of thunder rumbled about, but then the huge tail - a weapon that was basically solid bone and on its own probably weighed as much as he did - swung off the bed of the trailer and tapped Silvera on his ankle. He didn't realize how bad it was until the man started howling in pain and fell to the ground.

At the Ark, Owen and Hamada had supported much of Silvera's weight as they lead him inside. Angie, the vet, had rushed over and lead them to an examine table usually reserved for the baby dinos. The ankle was badly broken. While Owen and the others managed to unload the ankylo inside the bay with the use of the Ark's handy crane, Angie took x-rays and set his ankle as best she could before splinting it. He'd need to go see a doctor - one for humans - but it would do for the time being.

"Good work tonight, Grady," Hamada commented as they made their way back on the rough roads. Owen thought he sound a bit begrudged.

Owen nodded his thanks. Something about it made him feel uneasy.

He was a team player. He never shied away from helping out the other handlers with their animals. He never said no to helping out however he could in these emergencies type situations. But the ACU... Most of them were nice guys. He rarely knocked heads with any of them... But they operated in the business's best interest which didn't always coincide with the best interests of the animals or even the humans working on the island.

...

Back at the Control building, they helped Silvera up the stairs and found a couch for him to rest on for the remainder of their time there.

"Hey," Gilles greeted softly as he approached. He held out a hand to Silvera. "Good work out there guys. As soon as this lets up we'll take you over to medical."

Owen spotted Claire down the hall and caught her eye. She began making her way to him and he tried to meet her half way but Gilles stopped him.

"Grady, why don't you head down to the showers? Come find me afterwards. I'd like to talk to you about something."

 _Great_. "Sure thing."

"Hey," her soft voice called as Gilles stepped away. "What happened?" she asked, glancing around him to see Silvera.

"Broken ankle," he answered just as quietly. "How's everything been here?"

"All the grids have lost power."

It wasn't until after she said it that he noticed there was minimal lighting in the hall. They must be on the backup generators too.

"But no other incidents reported as of yet." She looked him up and down. "You're soaked."

"Yeah," he said humorously. "There's a bit of rain out there."

She smirked. "I can have someone bring you a towel."

"Gilles said there's showers downstairs. I'm going to go clean up," he said. "Then he wants to have a chat."

She must have heard his trepidation. "Come to my office after your shower."

He raised his brow. "And Gilles?"

She shrugged. "I'll tell him I need to speak with you."

He nodded, regarding her and her offer. "And Browning?"

She paused, tilting her head, a faint smile on her lips. "That's not why I'm asking you to my office," she said knowingly. "I actually do want to discuss some things with you."

"Oh," he said, and in case his disappointment was more pronounced than he wanted it to be, he played it up by dropping his shoulders and pouting. "Damn it."

She laughed softly and stepped into the Control Room.

...

What the hell was he doing? he berated himself as he showered, hanging his head under the water. It wasn't heated but his body was so chilled from the rain that it felt warm against his skin. He wished it was hot enough to sooth his tense muscles, but he didn't have that sort of luck.

She was with someone else. She made her choice. It wasn't him. Get over it. Move on.

He tried to remember the last time they had sex. It had been before her nephews and sister visited, and that had been almost two months ago. It felt like years had passed.

She had kissed him last month. It had been a month since he ran into the paddock and stood toe to toe with the four raptors. And she had kissed him. Why? She was, what - emotional? She had been worried about him. She said she missed him. She kissed him and she missed him. But she was with Browning.

" _Fuck_ ," he mumbled.

...

He finished washing up and headed back upstairs. He bypassed the Control Room and made a beeline for Claire's office, trying to avoid any awkward moments with Gilles. He knocked on her door a couple of times and peeked his head in. He instantly regretted it.

Only a few of the lights in her office were on, working off backup power. Even in the low light, he couldn't miss that Browning was there, his hands on Claire's waist while hers rested on his arms. They might have just kissed from how close they were. It was a sucker punch to the gut.

She pulled away quickly at having heard the knocking. "Owen," she greeted casually. "Come in." She avoided his eyes and turned back to her desk.

"Hey, Grady," Browning said with a polite smile. "They suckered you into staying here during this shit storm?"

"Owen just assisted the ACU with rescuing an injured asset. He's been very helpful," Claire said on his behalf.

"Happy to help," he said with a numb smile.

"Good," Browning said, nodding. "Well, I should get back to the ballroom. I escaped through the service tunnels for a quick break." He grinned slyly at Owen. "Guests can be real pains in the ass."

"I can imagine." He looked to Claire. "You said you wanted to discuss some things?" he suggested as a way of explaining his presence to her boyfriend.

"Yes," she answered. "Take a seat, Mr. Grady."

"I'll leave you to it," Browning said as he was leaving the office. "I probably won't see you till the morning, Claire. Stay safe."

"You too, David." Owen noticed she focused on the folders on her desk while she spoke.

Browning closed the door behind him. Owen sat in the chair opposite Claire and rubbed his hands on his jeans nervously.

"Does he know?" he asked.

"Know what?"

"About us? That we were together?" She glanced up and before she could correct him he said, "Not _together_ , but you know what I mean." He rolled his eyes.

She seemed to deflate a little. "No," she said. "He knows we are... _friendly_...but I never told him we were...what we were."

Owen nodded. "So, what's up?" he asked, nodding to the folders on her desk and changing the subject.

She smiled softly. "We'll get to these," she said, placing a hand over the files. "First, tell me what you thought of going out there and working with the ACU."

He scoffed. "I thought it was idiotic. One fucking ankylosaur isn't worth six lives."

"You can't look at it as one animal for six humans," she said patiently. "Its a four million dollar investment that needed protection."

He threw his head back, still trying to wrap his brain around that kind of money. "Four million," he mused quietly.

She chuckled. "If you think that's a lot, I won't tell you what each of your raptors is worth."

He shook his head, looking back down across the desk at her. "Still. Six guys risk their lives for an animal you probably have fifteen of."

"Twenty-nine, actually," she admitted quietly.

"Oh, good," he said sarcastically. "So it was twice as bad as I thought."

"So is that a firm no to a future in the ACU?" she asked.

He hesitated. "Why does it matter?" he asked, because he got the impression it did.

"Gilles is adamant you'd be an valuable addition," she reasoned.

"If I did say yes," he began, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, "what would happen to the raptors?"

"Barry would take over," she said simply.

"Just like that?" he asked doubtfully.

She nodded. "We'd discuss your transfer with InGen, make sure they knew Barry would be lead with the raptors. The paperwork would be the most annoying part."

"You're forgetting about the four animals who's whole routine would be screwed up."

"There would be an adjustment period," she said slowly. "All of this is moot, however, if you're not interested."

Owen sighed and leaned back in his seat again. He shook his head. "I'm not. I'm not interested."

The only reason he would even consider the offer was to be able to work with more of the different species they had on the island. That part was appealing to him. But he didn't want to give up on his work with the raptors. They were finally making good and consistent strides. He'd bonded with them over the years. He wanted to see the program through.

"Okay, then," she said with another soft sigh. She pulled a folder closer to her and opened it. "Let's talk about the raptors. InGen is very please with the progress. They've asked us to look into creating the second generation."

Owen balked. "What?"

"They want to take what we've learned from your group and start working with a new one." She regarded him. "I wanted to hear your take on that."

"My girls..." he said slowly, needing to clear his throat. "What would happen to them?"

"You'd still be lead with them."

"So you're talking about _adding_ four more raptors?"

"That's what they want," she said, nodding. "What do you think?"

"I think four raptors is dangerous enough. Eight, and you might as well set the whole island on fire."

"But they would be young," she argued. "For a few years they wouldn't be too much of a threat."

Owen shook his head. "At nine months old they were up to mid thigh." He absent-minded indicated on his leg the height he remember his girls being. "Their bites are as strong as a crocodile and their claws would severe arteries. They're plenty dangerous enough before they're a year old."

"But you did it. You controlled them."

"I don't control them," he said tiredly. "They respect me because I'm their alpha. They could turn and kill me like that." He snapped his fingers. "I can't look after eight of them. There aren't enough hours in the day to be alpha of two groups."

"No, I wouldn't expect you to," she said. "I was going to ask if you thought it was something Barry would be interested in? And if you thought he could handle it?"

He paused then smirked, nodding. "Yeah, he could handle it. And I'm sure he'd like the opportunity." His smile faded. "But I don't think it's a good idea to add more."

She seemed unsure of herself for a moment, then stood and walked around her desk. She took the seat next to him. "Owen, InGen wants a new generation," she said quietly, gently. "If I were to insist that we couldn't add more raptors, they may tell us to...terminate the ones we have and start new."

He was surprised she was being so honest with him, and she seemed to actually care how he took that news. He nodded, understanding.

"I'll talk to Hoskins about it," he said. "Maybe I can convince him to see them through their life cycle. We should learn as much as we can..."

She placed a hand on his arm, trying to comfort him, he recognized. He fixed her hand with a hard stare. Her fingers were cold against his forearm. He fought the urge to grab them and warm them, to bring them to his lips, to pull her closer to him.

It was easy for him to get carried away.

"Was there anything else you needed to discuss?" he asked. Even he could hear the frostiness of his words.

She withdrew her hand with wide eyes. "No," she shook her head. "Owen, I..."

He stood, feeling free again now that she wasn't touching him. "I'll be in Control," he told her.

"Owen," she called when he was halfway to the door. It was her stressed tone that made him stop. "Are you mad at me?"

He sighed and repressed the desire the run his hands through his hair before turning around. "Why would I be mad at you?" he asked evenly.

"The raptors..." she said, standing. "It's not my idea. You know I'll do what I can to help you, right?" She took cautious steps towards him. Did he really make her that wary?

"What do you care about them?" He tried to not to sound accusing.

"I care about you," she said with a patronizing smile. She reached forward and tried to grab his hand but he jerked away. It was a small action but it didn't go unnoticed. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked, now annoyed.

"You have to stop," he told her. "I can't... I can't do this with you anymore."

She stared at him and he thought he might have saw a flash of hurt in her eyes. It killed him. "Can't do what?"

"This!" He gestured around the room. "The flirting. The touching."

She furrowed her brow. "I'm not flirting with you."

"You're trying to grab my hand."

"I'm trying to-! I thought you needed comfort. I thought you were upset about the raptors. I'm trying to be your friend!"

It was what he had teased her about for so long - that they were friends. That they _could_ be friends. That they could have casual sex and be friendly. That they could stop having sex and he could tell her he wanted more and she could turn him down and they could still be fucking friends. That he could watch her with Browning and still be such great, happy-go-freaking-lucky friends.

But they couldn't. He couldn't.

"I want more than that, Dearing." She continued to stare at him, finally at a loss for words it would seem. "You know that. You know what I want with you," he insisted. "I don't know that I can be anything with you if it's not that." It wasn't an ultimatum, he didn't want her to think it was. "It is what it is," he added flatly.

"You don't want to be friends?"

It was barely a whisper. And it was spoken so matter-of-factly it made him want to scream. She was guarding herself. She'd let him in for so long and he was ruining it. He was losing her.

If he had any sense of self-preservation when it came to her, he would have let her go.

"Of course, I do," he assured her. He reached out a tentative hand and inaudibly sighed when she let him touch her shoulder. "I do, Dearing. I really do. I just don't know that I can."

She was watching him with careful eyes, no longer wide open and trusting. He wanted to close his own, knowing what was coming, knowing he'd ruined what they had.

"You're right," she said evenly. She rubbed a hand across her forehead as her gaze fell to the floor. She turned back to her desk. "This was supposed to end months ago. I'm sorry for..." She turned back around as she stood behind the desk. "Well, for dragging this out."

"Claire, I-" he began softly before she cut him short.

"I have to get a few more things done in here. I'll talk with Gilles and let him now you aren't interested in his offer." She sat down, not looking up at him. "You can head back to Control now."

He wanted to kick himself. Or punch something. That was it, he thought. She'd shut herself off to him.

 _Fuck!_

He knew it was for the best. At least for him. He couldn't hold his life in the pathetic limbo he was stuck in forever. She was taken. Unavailable. Spoken for. He couldn't exactly ask her to leave Browning for him. Well, he could. But she wouldn't. If anything, it'd probably drive her further away from him. He wondered if that were even possible now, staring at her as she shuffled around papers.

He didn't have any claim on her. He didn't have any right to her. He didn't have the right to expect anything from her. He _did_ have the right to walk away. He hadn't so far but he should have. He knew. He should have done it a while ago and saved himself some of the pain, the humiliation he felt now.

So that's what he did. Without another word, he left her office, closed the door behind him, and ran his hands down his face.

It hurt. It really fucking hurt - way more than it should have. He was saving himself. He was helping her, too. He didn't want to be the reason Browning left her; and he was sure if he ever found out the sort of relationship he and Claire had, and their continued flirting, that's what Browning would do. He liked to think he'd do the same in the other man's shoes. Maybe not though. Claire Dearing was a hard fucking woman to leave behind, as he was currently finding out.

It shouldn't hurt when you're doing the right thing.

Suddenly, he was very tired. The exhaustion overwhelmed him. He heard a dull _thump_ come from her office. Maybe she had thrown something, or smacked a fist down on her desk. It's what he wanted to do, or at least what he would have wanted if he wasn't so god dammed tired. He had to actively withhold from going back inside and checking on her. He didn't like to be the reason for her hurting or confusion - he sure as shit didn't like her being the cause of his - but if they were ever going to get passed...whatever the hell they had been...they needed to disassociate from one another. Clean break and all the bullshit, he thought.

With a hand running through his hair in aggravation, he turned and headed toward the Control Room. He needed to find some coffee if he was going to stay awake the rest of the night.

* * *

 **I'm heartbroken, here. Please review with your thoughts on this chapter. Thank you**!


	17. Chapter 17

**So we left the last chapter on a heart wrenching note. I had rewritten that chapter** ** **(and the subsequent ones, to be honest)** three times: once with them being happy and flirty but nothing changes, once with a bit of angst, a bit of flirting, and then the third was what was posted. It felt the most real and allowed for better progression of the story. So while sad, I'm the happiest with this direction. I hope you all enjoy this next chapter. **

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"You don't have to go," Barry insisted as they climbed into the Jeep. "It's the same thing after every storm. The grids went down, backup generators worked great. The raptors were fine. The babies in paddock two were nervous but survived. The Aviary held up. Main Street was a mess to clean up. And the park was fully operational once more in under six hours." He shifted tiredly as he drove. "I can tell you if anything changes.

"All senior level personnel are supposed to go and decide if things need to change for next time," Owen said as he rolled down the passenger window to get some air. "It'll be quick. No big deal."

"It's only been a week," Barry said. "I wouldn't fault you for staying away."

 _One week, three days, and_ \- he glanced at the digital display on the dash - _eleven hours. But who was counting?_

"It'll only make thing worse if I'm not there. Besides, I don't want them to corner you about the new generation of raptors if I'm not there."

Barry, while smug and flattered that they considered him to be lead, felt the same as Owen. Two groups of the island's deadliest was a level of stupid not seen by either of them in a long time. Barry had gone as far as to say he'd vote to raise another t-rex before doubling the number of raptors.

"I would tell them what foolish thinking it was," he said. "Until they flash that big paycheck that you get in my face. Then I might reconsider," he said with a teasing grin.

"Yeah," Owen scoffed. "Prepare to be severely disappointed."

"Maybe you're right," he conceded. "Maybe going and seeing her will do you some good." Barry had been wonderfully supportive - and by supportive, he had brought Owen a six pack every night for the last week and three days - after Owen relented to his incessant pestering and divulged the details of the talk he'd had with Claire the night of the storm.

"Yeah," Owen said, doubtful. "Maybe."

"Who knows? Yes?"

Owen tried giving his friend an encouraging smile. "Sure." It didn't look like Barry bought it.

...

When they arrived at the Control building and filed in with the other paddock leads and heads of the island's various departments, Owen had begun to second guess his courage. Maybe he should have skipped the meeting. Maybe it would be too awkward and difficult to be in the room with her.

Zara spotted him as he entered the large conference room and gave him a friendly wave before starting to make her way over to him.

"Hi," she greeted warmly. "How have you been?"

For a wild moment he thought maybe Claire had confided in Zara about their relationship. But then he remembered Claire had been so adamant about keeping it quiet and he hardly thought she would dare expose them now.

"I'm doing good," he said with a false smile. "You?"

She nodded and gazed around the room. He purposefully kept his eyes on her. He didn't want to be caught off guard and find those green eyes under that vibrant red hair, catching him staring at her. He vaguely wondered if Zara would be creeped out by his determined stare.

"I've been well," she answered. "Things have been busy since the storm. And Miss Dearing has me trying to coordinate all sorts of things I've never done before." She turned to him with a grateful smile. "I'm happy to be learning new things, of course." And he believed her. The little he knew about Zara, he knew she had to be tough and eager to be Claire's assistant. "She's been strange lately, hasn't she?"

His brows rose as innocently as he could manage. "Who? Dearing?" He shrugged. "Haven't seen her since the storm. I wouldn't know."

"Oh," she said softly with a frown. "I thought you two were friends."

He shrugged again. "We're friendly." That was a good answer, right? Zara made a small noise and glanced away like she was confused. "How's she been strange?" he asked, not being able to resist. On his other side, Barry was fidgeting, probably listening in.

"Well," Zara began, "She's been very cheerful." A knife to the chest. "I thought maybe Mr. Browning had proposed." And a sharp twist to the heart. "But she doesn't have a ring. And I'm sure he would have bought her a ring."

Owen nodded, numb. "Sure."

"I thought maybe you had something to do with it," she said quietly, almost like it was a secret.

"Why me?"

Of course, he wanted to be the cause of her happiness. He would have preferred he had caused it from being with her rather than putting the final nail in the coffin to whatever fucked up friendship they had.

"She has me working on getting chickens farmed on the island. She said it was something you had requested for your raptors."

He recalled memos he'd sent out, requests for increases of funds to get more pigs, asking for different live animals to be brought in for the raptors to hunt. He'd even said something about it when Masrani and Claire had visited the raptor paddock ages ago.

"I asked her why we were bothering when you already had pigs. She said she owed you a favor."

Owen wasn't sure how he should take all this new information. His first inclination was to smile and be flattered that she was still thinking of him and trying to do something to his benefit. He also wondered if this was her way of apologizing or trying to lure him back in. And what the hell was she so cheerful about?

"It makes sense for other reasons, of course. The island already grows it own produce for our restaurants. Farming chickens means one let product we have to import here," Zara continued with an air of practicality. "Anyway, she made it clear it was to be a priority. I thought maybe you had something to do with it."

"No," he said. He had the sudden need to clear his throat. "I didn't know anything about it. Happy to hear it, though." He showed what he hoped was an appreciative smile. "Let me know if you need help with any of it."

He saw Claire enter the room out of the corner of his eye, which was about the same time Zara excused herself. Owen glanced briefly at Barry, still wanting to avoid her if at all possible.

"Chickens would be nice," Barry said quietly. "I wonder what made her think to work on that?"

Owen shook his head, not knowing.

"Alright, everyone, let's all take our seats." He pinched the bridge of his nose at the sound of her voice. There wasn't enough chairs for everyone so Owen, Barry, Brines, and a handful of others stood against the back wall. "I'd like to thank you all for the hard work you put in getting ready for this storm. I'm proud to announce that we were able to get the park back up and fully operational in four hours. That's one of our fastest times." There was a light smattering of cheers and applause.

He finally looked at her. She was glancing at a tablet in front of her, Browning on one side of her and Zara on the other. She was wearing a lavender blouse that fell delicately around her shoulders. He recalled that blouse as one he had tried to hurriedly take off of her in the past. He smirked at the memory. She'd fussed over him being careful while removing it from her body - it was a favorite of hers, apparently. It became a favorite of his as well. Since she insisted he take his time taking it off her, he'd taken off the skirt she was wearing first and kissed every inch of newly exposed skin as he unbuttoned the silky material all while his hand worked between her legs. Eventually, fed up with the teasing, she'd ripped the damned thing off herself and held his head to her breast while she rode his fingers to her orgasm.

God, he was hopeless.

He hardly listened to the meeting, trying to drown out the sound of her voice took up too much of his mental processes. He tried to think of the raptors, of what he would say to Hoskins about the second generation idea when the man was finally back on the island. But the memory of her breathy moans, soft pants, the way she'd whisper his name in his ear when he was inside her kept creeping into his head and thoroughly distracting him.

He glared at her like she was actively forcing memories of their sexual past into his consciousness. Thankfully, she was studiously avoiding his direction so he wasn't concerned with her noticing.

"Brines," she called. "Your radios were fixed earlier this week?"

Brines coughed. "Uh, yes. Maintenance came out on Wednesday and got them working again."

"It was a good thing we had Grady at Control," Gilles said. "He was the only one able to get a hold of you." Owen shifted his gaze to Brines who folded his arms across his chest.

The radios at paddock nine had gone down a few hours before the storm cleared. No one noticed until Brines failed to check in like all the handlers were supposed to do every couple of hours. People in Control had started to panic when he didn't answer their hailing either. ACU was close to going out again but Lowery had confirmed the paddock doors were all sealed and Rex was safely behind them. Owen had called Brines' cell around dawn, just as the storm was starting to clear. Brines had been gruff and unapologetic about missing the radios, claiming he didn't know they weren't working and he had other things to deal with anyway. A few trees had fallen near their offices and the noise attracted Rex's attention. Apparently Rex could be a real creepy motherfucker in the rain. Some of the guys weren't able to handle their fear and froze up. Brines had to go out on his own to release a goat in order to distract Rex.

" _Ass Hole ate his breakfast then wandered off,_ " Brines had said when he called. " _I tell you, some of these guys are damned near useless._ "

He had been understandably aggravated by his techs' performance during that high stress hour and didn't take kindly to the scolding Control gave him for not finding a way to check in.

"And how did the raptors do?" Claire asked. Owen chanced a look at her but her eyes were focused solely on Barry.

"They did well," Barry answered. "The storm lasted longer than we all thought it would have, though, and their sedatives wore off a few hours before they could be released. They were restless but nothing critical happened."

"Excellent," she said shortly.

The meeting droned on for another fifteen minutes. Browning talked about guest security; Otto in island maintenance talked about the road clearings. Tuskins discussed guest occupancy levels steadily increasing. There was another small tropical storm they were keeping an eye on in the distance but it was expected to turn away from them. It was all the same shit he'd heard time and time again. Barry was right, he could have just skipped the whole damned thing.

Claire adjourned the meeting and the shuffling and chatter made for an excellent buffer for his thoughts. He thought maybe she would ask to speak with him, that she would stop him and want a word in her office. Maybe she'd apologize or give him the chance to apologize to her. Maybe they could go back to being friends without all the flirting. Maybe he could pretend that he didn't miss the smell of her on his sheets or that he drank away his misery whenever it became too much for him.

But she didn't say a word to him - never even looked at him as far as he could tell. He knew it was for the best.

...

"Grady!" barked Hoskins. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

At the time, Owen was washing his hands in the bathroom sink when Hoskins barged in. He gave him a curious but annoyed glance in the mirror as he dried his hands.

"There a problem?" he asked stiffly.

"Yeah, I'd say there's a fucking problem," he said, practically spitting. "You want to tell me why I'm getting word that the lab nerds aren't allowed to create more raptors because _you_ say so?"

Owen threw the paper towel away and squared up for what he knew would be a hard fought battle. "You mean that idiotic idea to make a second generation? Yeah, I said it was stupid. And dangerous."

"Maybe you're not getting the full picture here," Hoskins said, laughing condescendingly. "You are the head of a pack of animals, but I am your boss. And my boss and his boss and his _boss's_ boss want to start on a new generation. So what you think doesn't really matter. Because your paycheck comes from us."

"It's not all about the money, Hoskins," he said as he turned to leave. "Anyway, it does seem that what I think matters because they aren't making any more, are they?"

"No, no you're right," he agreed. Owen waited for the other shoe to drop. "They won't allow more than four on the island at a time. So here's what I'm thinking we'll do...we'll kill these ones off and start new. What do you think?"

Owen turned around suddenly to stare him down. He knew this was coming. Claire had warned him it might come to this. "It's your decision," Owen said sourly. "But know this, I walk away if you do."

"You'd walk away?" Hoskins asked, not buying it. "Bull shit."

"They're animals, Hoskins - wild animals. You're never going to get from them what you want."

"They take orders," he said adamantly, successfully taken off topic. "You've proven that."

"Hey, if you're so confident, I'll go open the gate for you myself. You can walk in there and we'll put them to the test," Owen offered sharply. Hoskins' eye twitched and he nearly snarled. "No? Then how about you let me do my damn job. There's no point in starting another pack until we learn all we can from this one. Otherwise, as soon as they get to be the age the girls are at now, we'll be flying blind again. Let them complete a life cycle. Then you can get your new baby raptors and I'll be the alpha again."

Hoskins was chewing on his tongue and glaring at him. He decided to continue walking to his office. "It'd be hard to find someone else with my kind of experience, don't you think?" At his office door he stopped and looked back at the man who had so kindly reminded Owen that he was his boss. "That's my final offer, Hoskins. We keep these girls until it's their time to go, and I'll stay on for the next generation. If it's something else, I walk away." He closed his office door behind him.

...

He was running again. He fucking hated running. But sitting at home, fishing and drinking allowed for his mind to wander. And if it wandered, he started thinking about _her_ and sex and her mouth on his and whether he made the right call walking away from her that night.

He tried hiking, but the movement was too slow for him and still gave him too much time to think. Whereas with running, his mind was usually more preoccupied with thinking about how much he really hated running.

 _Has it really only been ten minutes?...Jesus Christ, its hot...How the hell do people do this for fun?...I can't believe I used to run ten miles a day in the Navy...What am I on now? Mile four?...Mile three? Fuck!...Halfway, finally!...Okay, mile six...There's that second wind...Only one mile to go...I've got this...This shit's getting easier and easier...I'm a fucking machine!...Oh, bungalow, sweet bungalow. Thank God that's over._

He was running at least five miles a day, usually averaging around seven or eight. It sucked, but at least his endurance was kicking back up. His heart probably appreciated the cardio. He'd also started bugging Barry about sneaking into the resort gym with him. But getting Barry in a gym was like getting a cat into water - not impossible, but you have to put up a good fight.

At the very least, all the working out was helping to keep his beer gut in check.

...

It had been almost and entire month since the storm had passed and he'd stuck to his convictions and stretched his self-restraint paper thin, never contacting her. He didn't even try to "accidentally on purpose" run into her or Zara or anyone he knew to be somewhat friendly with her. He was at this wits ends and Barry was starting to call him a gym rat and - he groaned at the thought - a _runner_.

But it was healthier this way, he knew. He needed to keep his distance.

His phone vibrated quickly as it sat on his desk.

 **I need to see you. Can you meet me this week?**

Well, shit.

He didn't respond immediately, needing to think things through. Did he really want to see her? Stupid question. Yes, of course he did. But _should_ he? A few hours later, after still not responding, she texted him again.

 **I know we aren't supposed to be friends anymore, but I need to talk to you.**

And then another:

 **Please, Owen**.

He sighed as he was now laying in his hammock.

 **When and where?**

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! Claire being the first one to cave felt important both for her character development and Owen's. Please review with your thoughts!**


	18. Chapter 18

**I'm so excited to share this story with you all. I can't wait for you to read the upcoming chapters! Thanks again for all the encouragement and love!**

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He glanced at his watch as he stood outside the backlot entrance to the mosasaur aquarium. It was a few minutes before eight, which was when she had requested they meet. Stashing his keys in his pocket, he took a deep breath and opened the door.

Inside was dark. There were small track lights in the floor that lead to the door he had just entered in case of emergencies. In front of him, about twenty yards away, was the giant glass wall of the tank. The water inside was a murky blue, partially lit by lights within the tank. It gave the room and corridor he was standing in an eery glow. As he stepped further forward, he passed yellow caution lines on the floor, outlining where the risers above ground that would lower for the audience during the feeding show.

She was silhouetted against the glow from the tank. Her head turned slightly as she heard his approach but she remained facing the water. He stood next to her, his shoulder a comfortable distance from hers. He didn't glance over, and neither did she. He waited for her to make the first move and to explain why she had asked to meet him.

After a minute or so of uncomfortable silence, at least for him, the mosasaurus made an appearance, gliding by the glass, her massive form blocking most of the view.

"Mr. Masrani visited a while back," she said quietly. "He came to see her and told me he thought she looked sad." Her tone was one of wonderment, as if she were curious how someone could read such an emotion from the beast before them. "So she's getting an expansion. We're pushing the perimeter of her habitat out another one thousand feet into the lagoon. She'll have ten thousand more cubic feet to swim in."

Owen nodded vaguely as the sea monster turned and swam away, becoming an indistinguishable shadow. "I always wondered how they managed to get DNA from an underwater dinosaur," he mused. "Doesn't it all come from mosquitoes?"

He saw her nod from the corner of his eye. "Maybe one was beached," she suggested. "Or, maybe the DNA wasn't from a water dinosaur and everything that the lab added to the gene sequence made her into what she is now." He didn't respond. "Either way, when we first opened her attraction to the public, attendance skyrocketed. It was the largest influx of visitors we had ever seen."

He waited for her to speak again, wondering when she was going to tell him why they were there. From his peripheral, he saw her shuffle and glance down at her feet before looking back up into the tank again. He thought he saw the muscle in her jaw working.

"He's leaving," she said, her voice sounded thick. "David. He's leaving." He almost turned to her. "He got a job offer - some billionaire in Europe wants him to be head of his private security team." She raised a hand to her hair and breathed deeply. "He has a daughter. She lives in Paris with his ex-wife." Owen had known none of this. "She's six. I've only met her through Skype calls. She has this... _adorable_ little French accent," she laughed lightly then sniffled. "He'll be living in London. Only a train ride away." She shifted her weight again. "It's a decrease in pay, but it's worth it to be closer to her, I suppose."

What was he supposed to say? he wondered. Was he supposed to comfort her? Tell her he was sorry her boyfriend was leaving? Act like they hadn't spent the last month ignoring their past?

"He's leaving in two weeks," she added.

The mosasaurus came back, this time near the top of the glass. Owen craned his neck back and viewed its underbelly as she swam by.

"I was awful," she whispered sadly. He could hear tears in her words. "To both of you." She was fidgeting, shifting her weight and holding her hands together in front of her. "I'm sorry."

He sighed and cocked his head, regarding the glass before him. Her reflection was difficult to see. "You weren't awful," he said finally.

"I was," she denied. "I kissed you and flirted, and I was stringing you along. All while I was with him."

He finally turned his head to see her. Her cheeks were tear-stained and the waterworks were still coming. Her eyes were big and bright and she chewed her lip.

"It might have been a little unfair," he conceded. "But at least I got a kiss out of it," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

She shook her head, unsmiling. "You must hate me."

He pulled back a little, surprised that she would think that. "I could never _hate_ you, Dearing."

Still shaking her head she closed her eyes. More tears leaked out. "I'm sorry," she said, beginning to lose her composure. Her shoulders shook and he finally took pity on her, pulling her into his chest with one arm around her shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Owen."

" _Sh_ ," he hushed her. "It's okay." His hand rubbed at her arm and he kissed the top of her head. "I'm not mad at you. It's okay."

It was true. He wasn't mad at her and he never really had been. He'd been annoyed and upset and frustrated, but never really _mad_. Not at her.

"How could you not be mad at me?" she asked, lightly pushing away and looking up at him.

He shrugged and gave a half smile. "You didn't kick my puppy, Claire," he said. "You just kissed me."

"No, I did more than that," she said stubbornly.

"Yeah, okay," he said, pulling his arm back. "You're right. You made me like you even more. How awful of you," he said sarcastically but with a smile. He shrugged again. "Anyway, you're sort of...beyond fault - to me, anyway. There's not much you could do to that would make me hate you, Dearing."

She wrapped her arms around herself as she looked back to the tank. She looked so angry and sad.

"I'm just saying," he said easily. "Don't beat yourself up over what you think you did to me." She didn't react. "Besides, I mean, who could blame you, right? I am _irresistible_ after all."

She looked at him but didn't even crack a smile. _Come on, Dearing_ , he thought. _Smile for me._

"You don't deserve to be treated the way I treated you."

"It's fine," he said. He hated to see her so hurt and vulnerable. He didn't want to make things worse.

"No, it's not," she said angrily. "I hurt you, and that's not okay."

"Claire," he said softly. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it."

"Stop," she groaned. She rubbed at the bottom of her eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling. "You stood in my office and told me that you couldn't be friends with me anymore. I've fucked things up. Just let me apologize for it."

"Okay," he whispered, nodding.

She turned her head to the side, looking into the tank. "I know you want more," she said. "And I..." He held his breath as he waited for what she would say next. "I'm sorry I kissed you after the meeting. It wasn't fair to you - or to David. This whole thing was unfair."

"Why did you kiss me?" he asked curiously.

She didn't answer, her arms still wrapped around herself.

"Claire?" he asked.

"You're supposed to call me Dearing," she said, sniffing.

"Why did you kiss me, _Dearing?_ "

She glanced at him and he swelled with pride at the small smile she gave him. "I missed you," she said simply. "I missed you more than I thought I would. But I shouldn't have done it."

"No," he agreed. "Probably wasn't the smartest move you've ever made." He smirked to soften the blow of his words.

She laughed, and it was another victory, but she stopped quickly. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

She shook her head. "I've hurt you."

"I'll survive."

"I betrayed David."

"Eh," he said with a shrug. He hooked his thumbs on his belt. "He's leaving. Fuck him."

Again, she shook her head, unsmiling. "He's a good man."

"I'm sure he is."

"I'm an awful person." She hung her head in her hands.

"No you're not," he assured her. "Everyone fucks up. And comparatively speaking, you kissing me while dating another guy is pretty low on the Fuck Up Scale. It's like, a two. Adding more raptors to the island is like a nine-point-five." He stepped closer to her. "Trying to carry a forty pound pteranodon without help is like seven. That was me last month, by the way. It clocked me right on the nose. Barry laughed for about ten minutes straight," he said trying to make her laugh again. So far he'd only managed to make her look up from her hands. "Promising Barry you'd work a night shift for him whenever he asked was a six-point-seven. Calling the guys at the Rex paddock a bunch of lazy chicken shits was... well, ya know, it sounds bad because you think they'll just arrange an 'accident' and send you in with Rex. But like I said, they're chicken shits and would never be able to pull that off."

She gave a small chuckle.

"But me and you, Dearing, that was never a fuck up. Even you kissing me after the meeting, I don't count it as a bad thing."

"You said it was a two."

"Yeah, but nothing really counts until it's at least a three."

She smiled sadly again. "I still feel bad."

"Yeah," he said nodding. "But that'll go away."

"How do you know that?

"Time heals all wounds," he said wisely. "Or so they say."

They both turned back to the glass wall, neither saying anything for a while. The silence finally felt comfortable to him.

"Maybe," she started softly, "when David leaves, we could..." His heart rate picked up and his hands started tingling as he waited for her to finish. "Maybe we could go back to being friends?" she asked, unsure.

He bit his cheek to hide his smile. He could just imagine how their friendship would be... She would be single, they'd be flirting and she wouldn't feel guilty about it. It would be easy enough to fall back into their old ways. The idea excited him, made him eager. Could he help Browning pack to get him off the island sooner?

She knew where he stood with her. She knew what he wanted. The fact that she was suggesting being friends again made him believe a part of her must want it too. She'd always been wary of their relationship. She'd always held back. Maybe now, after all this time apart, she realized they could work, and that she _wanted_ them to work.

He turned to look at her. The tears had stopped falling but the evidence of them was still there in the slightly smudged makeup around her eyes. Her lips were full but set in a straight line as she waited for his response.

He could have easily have told her then. Those three little words popped into his head like they'd been there for years. He thought it probably should have hit him like a ton of bricks - realizing the depth of his feelings for her. But it wasn't all that surprising, to be honest. He'd been holding himself back, was all.

He couldn't say it though. She'd run. He'd have to sit there and watch her pull away again.

Maybe he'd tell her soon, though. Maybe, after Browning left and they started hanging out again, she'd come over to his place. Maybe they'd sit on the steps of his shack, he'd drink his beer while she sipped her wine. Maybe he'd tell her then. Maybe he'd tell her she's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen and he loved her more than she'd ever know.

But that was a hell of a lot of maybes as they stood there, in the aquarium, and she would be leaving him to spend the next two weeks with the man who was leaving her.

"I'm sorry he's leaving," he said kindly. Her stony expression softened a little. She almost looked like she would start crying again. "Of course we can be friends again, Dearing." She looked to him nearly smiling. "Once he leaves, call me whenever you'd like to hang out."

She nodded and smiled softly.

...

He was counting down the days. Two weeks seemed to drag on forever and he knew she'd likely take some time for herself before reaching out to him. He figured he should plan on at least three weeks before he heard from her again. She seemed eager enough to be friends again, so he didn't think she'd wait _too_ long. But even so, even if it was just for propriety's sake, he figured she'd take at least a week to recover from Browning leaving.

So he was surprised when, at the two week mark, she texted him.

 **He's gone.**

 **I'm sorry** , he responded, practically skipping as he headed to his office. **Let me know if you need anything.**

 **Stop acting like you aren't happy.**

He smiled. See? She knew him so well.

 **I don't like knowing your hurting.**

 **The improper use of your/you're hurts me more.**

 **Oh my God. Forget it. We can't be friends.**

 **You miss me, don't you?**

 **Like crazy, Dearing.**

 **Good. I'll text you later in the week to see if YOU'RE free.**

 **Let's plan on dinner** , he said, suddenly feeling nervous. **Do you like fish?**

He waited for her response. He'd expected it might take her a minute or so to formulate her reply. He decided to be adamant about spending more time with her that wasn't just the two of them ripping each other's clothes off. If he ever wanted to be with her - _really_ with her - he knew they would need those additional moments together.

 **I do** , she eventually answered.

 **Good. Pick a night and I'll make you dinner.**

 **OK. I'll let you know.**

He breathed a sigh of relief and let his phone rest on his desk. Good, he thought. This would be good.

...

He was walking back from his dock, pole and bucket in hand when her car pulled up.

"Am I early?" she asked as she stepped out.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Fish were just taking their time biting." He held up the bucket a little and set his pole against the railing of his shack.

"You _caught_ the fish we're eating?" she asked incredulously.

He laughed. "Of course, I did. I live on the water." He gestured to the lagoon behind him. "You thought I'd feed you anything but a fresh catch? Come on, now, Dearing," he goaded. "You know me better than that."

She smiled shyly and stood in front of him as he set the bucket down. "But now you have to kill them," she said. She leaned forward to look inside where the two fish were swimming in tight circles.

"Are you morally opposed to that?" he asked. She said she ate fish. How else did she think it was made?

She shook her head. "No."

"Then what's the problem?"

She shrugged. "You don't get...I don't know...attached to them?"

He smiled. "Only to the really cute ones," he joked. "No, Dearing, they're fish. Delicious, delicious fish." He nodded to the small bag she was carrying. "What have you got in there?"

"Wine," she answered. He should have known.

"Alright. You can go wait inside if you want," he offered.

"Do I need to?" she asked.

"Have you ever seen how fish is prepared?" She shook her head. "I'm worried if you watch you won't want to eat it," he said laughing.

"I'm a big girl, Owen," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I can handle a little blood."

"It's more than a little blood," he said, still laughing. "I have to clean the scales off, chop off its head-"

"Okay," she said, stopping him. "I'll go inside."

He chuckled again as she walked away. "I'll let you know when it's safe to come back out."

He watched as she left him. The dress she wore seemed more casual than her usual outfits, but still nice enough to wear for work, he thought. He vaguely wondered if she'd gone home and changed or if she'd purposefully worn something different to work knowing she'd be seeing him after.

He fired up his grill and got to work cleaning the fish. He tried to work fast. He had hoped to have all this done by the time she got there, but as he had told her, the fish took their damn time biting.

Soon enough he made his way to his trailer to get the vegetables he was going to grill with the fish. When he opened the door he saw her sitting at his table, a glass of wine already poured, and reading something on her phone.

"Having fun yet?" he asked with a smile. "I'm almost done."

"It's fine," she said with a smile of her own.

He went to wash his hands in the sink but froze, looking down at the empty basin. He could have sworn he had left a bowl in there from that morning's breakfast cereal.

"Did you... _clean?_ " he asked uncertainly. He looked over his small countertop. The bottle of hand soap had been set next to the bottle of dish soap, perfectly aligned. The counter had definitely been wiped down. Even the sink looked shinier. The kitchen towel he usually kept hooked on the freezer door handle was folded neatly next to the sink.

"I cleaned the one dish and spoon you had in your sink, yes," she said. She tried to sound nonchalant, but he heard the stiffness in her voice. "It seemed only fair. You are cooking for me."

He smiled and opened his fridge to grab the vegetables he'd already cut up.

"I cook, you clean," he said. "I like the system. Please tell me you do laundry too."

She shook her head, smiling. "I have mine sent out," she said. "Otherwise all my white shirts and dresses would be pink by now, I'm sure."

He chuckled. "It's safe out there, if you want to come out." She nodded and stood up, grabbing her glass and phone. "Or, you know, I've got a vacuum in here somewhere. The place could use a good dusting, too."

She shoved his shoulder. "Shut up."

He laughed and led her outside.

...

They chatted amicably while they ate, sitting at the picnic bench outside. They talked about work, mostly, but also about her nephews, and what else he knew how to cook, what little meals she usually prepared for herself if she had the time, and he told her Zara had mentioned she was looking into getting chickens on the island for him.

"It'll still be a while before anything comes of it," she warned. "Zara's getting the expenses of it all now. There's still regulations we'll have to fight with. And even then the board could nix the whole thing."

He shrugged. "It's nice that you're trying, anyway."

After they finished with their meals and the conversation began to die down, he collected their plates and headed into his trailer, Claire following after him. He dumped the remnants of their food in the trash outside, not wanting his house to smell like fish, then went inside and put the plates in the sink. Claire placed her glass down on the counter and started running water over the plates, picking up the sponge and adding a bit of soap.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, bemused. "Why do you keep cleaning my dishes?"

"You cooked," she answered with a smile and a small shrug.

She washed while he dried and put away. They finished quickly and took turns washing and drying their hands.

"I should probably get going," she said softly.

He regarded her carefully. Truthfully, he hadn't known what to expect of the night. Would she want to stay? Would she want to take things slow? Was she deluding herself into thinking they were _just_ friends?

"If that's what you want," he said, nodding. "You could stay, though." He smiled kindly, happy that he'd said it innocently enough that if she were offended by his insinuation of sleeping with her he could easily brush it off as a misunderstanding.

She smirked. "And what would we do if I stayed?" she asked coyly.

There she was, he thought, smiling wider now. There was the flirt he knew her to be.

"Well, I need to shower," he began. "I smell like fish and smoke. So you could either hang out in here, or hang out...in there." He jerked his head in the direction of the bathroom.

She bit her cheek, still smirking. "I think the shower was one place we never did get to..." she trailed off but stepped closer to him. Her hand rose to his chest. "But," she grimaced, "maybe another time. You're right, you do smell like fish."

He laughed as she stepped away. "Okay. Fair enough."

"I really should go," she insisted, smiling. "Dinner was delicious. Thank you for cooking."

"Anytime."

"You should come by my place sometime. I'll return the favor," she offered.

"I think I could handle that," he agreed. "Just let me know when."

"How about this Sunday?"

He nodded, unable to stop smiling. "I'll be there."

She nodded curtly, fighting her own smile. "Good."

"And I'll supply the alcohol," he said, foreseeing her reaction.

"No," she said firmly with wide eyes and a chuckle. "Please, no."

"Aw, why not?"

"Because I know it'll either be beer or tequila."

"Hey, don't knock the tequila," he warned. "Look at where it got us."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. It's been such a smooth ride."

He laughed and followed her outside and to her car.

"Thank you again," she said as she opened the car door. "I had fun."

"Good. I'm glad."

He wondered if he should kiss her. She had flirted. She seemed interested. But she'd only just broken up with Browning; maybe she needed more time? Before he could decide, she raised herself up and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"I'll see you Sunday," she said in a breathy voice that made him wish she was staying to shower with him.

"See you then." He wondered if his gaze on her was as lustful as he felt.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you for the reviews! We're pushing further into their relationship now. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"My sister called me today," said conversationally as she stirred the sauce she was making. Owen was sitting on the bar stool opposite the counter behind her, watching her as she cooked and drinking the beer she had thoughtfully purchased for him. "Apparently, my nephew Zack wants to take a year off before college and work here at the park."

Owen smirked. "Caught the dino-bug, huh?" he asked chuckling. "Are you going to get him a job?"

She turned to him, still stirring the pot. "Guess which paddock he wants to work at," she said deadpanned.

"Oh-ho," he laughed, unsure. "Don't say raptors."

"Yep," she answered, popping the _p_ -sound.

"Oh, I don't know about that," he said doubtfully.

"That's what I said. And Karen agrees, of course. I think about that kid - the one that fell in the pit - and I just..." She exaggerated a shutter. "So no. Over my dead body will he be working there."

"So where are you going to put him?" Internally, Owen sighed with relief. Having to watch his own ass with the raptors was hard enough. Managing a bunch of other guys, most of which he considered friends, was also immensely stressful. But having Claire's nephew there would make it unbearable. He'd probably lock the kid in his office just so he knew he was safe and out of the way.

"If he was coming here now, I'd stick him in retail. He might not like it, but we're low staffed in that area. But maybe by the time he finishes high school I can put him somewhere cooler - like working with the herbivores in the Valley."

Owen nodded even though she wasn't facing him. "Yeah, that would be cool for him."

She was making chicken parmesan. He had arrived at her apartment exactly on time, but she said since he made her wait for her meal, it was only fair she do the same to him. He was happy to, though. They spent more time together that way. And there was the added bonus of watching her hips sway as she moved around the kitchen preparing their dinner.

He fiddled with the tiny bottle of tequila he had brought her as a gag gift. Before heading to her building, he'd stopped by one of the resorts and charmed a member of housekeeping to give him one of the minibar bottles. Claire had laughed and smiled appreciatively, only to show him inside to her kitchen where the bottle he'd bought her for Christmas (another gag gift from more than a year ago, now) was sitting on the counter, still unopened with the large red ribbon he had tied to the neck.

Instead of cracking open the tequila, she offered him wine, which he accepted but then she opened her fridge to show him the beer she had bought. And he nearly said it then - those three words. She was smiling at him, so proud of her wit and forethought, and he could hardly stand to be next to her without grabbing her and crushing his lips to hers. He settled for a short hug, his arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist, and reminded himself to cool it. Go slow. Don't rush her. She was getting there on her own.

When they finally sat down for dinner - her dining table was much fancier than the picnic table they ate on at his place - he praised her cooking and thanked her again for the beer. They said a cheers to their friendship - a not-so-hidden, seductive meaning behind their words - and drank some more.

He refilled her wine glass twice and got himself a couple more beers as well. He wondered if they should stop drinking; if maybe, like the night they had drank all that tequila together, they would move too fast. But then she placed her hand over his on the table as she laughed at something he said. And when they were cleaning up - he did the dishes this time (she had a dishwasher so it was significantly easier) - she had stayed close to his side, brushing against him every now and again. And it wasn't like her kitchen was small. On the contrary, she had plenty of space to move about. Then she offered him another drink and asked him to sit on the couch with her so they could talk more.

He tried to slow down - with his drinking and with her. She was close. So god damned close. She was sitting, angled towards him, and resting her hand in his shoulder.

"I missed you," she said after a short while.

"I missed you, too, Dearing," he said, returning her smile.

She scrunched her nose at him. "You can call me Claire."

"Oh, am I allowed to now?" he asked teasingly. "I wasn't sure."

She laughed and nodded. The hand on his shoulder started rubbing circles over his shirt. "You look nice tonight," she complimented.

He stared at her for maybe a second too long before responding. "You're beautiful."

Her smile faded as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. It was such a sweetly familiar kiss. Her mouth molded perfectly to his. She had to feel it, too, right? This wasn't just him. Her hand threaded into his hair as their mouths opened to each other. She pulled back and grabbed the bottle from his hands, placing it and her wine glass on the coffee table. Turning back to him, they pulled each other closer, silently pleaded with themselves for more.

"Claire," he mumbled against her kiss. "Maybe we should stop."

"Why?" she asked, in between kisses.

"Are you drunk?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"Just kiss me until I'm sober," she breathed. "Don't leave." Her hands clutched his shirt. She kissed him again, her lips hard against his.

"Claire, I don't know-" he began, his forehead against hers, his arms wrapped around her waist.

"Shut up, Grady." She kissed him again and pulled her body closer to his. "You taste like beer," she said with distaste.

"Secondhand wine isn't so great either," he griped, pulling her mouth back to his all the same.

"Oh, God, I missed you," she preened as his lips latched onto her throat.

His hand reached down to her thigh and pulled her leg over his lap to hook around his waist. He adjusted their position until he was hovering over her. Her dress rode up her legs and his fingers were itching to touch more of her.

"I need to stop," he warned her. He was extremely aroused and he didn't know how much more of it he could take before all the gentlemanly and chivalrous crap he was trying to hold on to got thrown out the window. Along with their clothes at the rate they were going.

"No," she denied. "Don't." Her hands went to the buttons of his shirt.

"Claire," he warned again. She gave up with his shirt and brought them to his pants where one fumbled with his belt and the other rubbed eagerly against his erection. He lifted himself up on his arms, pulling his lips off of her. "Don't do that."

"Just stay," she whispered. She shook her head. "We don't have to do anything. We don't have to kiss." She was breathing heavily and her chest and neck were flushed. "Just stay with me." Her hands reached up to his face.

"If I stay," he said, "we won't just be sitting here."

"We can watch TV," she suggested, turning her head to look at the flat screen across the room.

"Yeah," he scoffed, pushing himself up onto his knees. She wriggled beneath him, moving to sit up. "I don't know that I believe you."

"I'll be good. I promise," she insisted with a grin as she smoothed down her hair.

They settled back into their seats with a respectable distance between them. Owen was desperately trying to control his heart and breathing while his blood pressure focused on a very specific area of his body.

Neither of them watched much TV in their daily lives so she turned to some random channel and left the remote between them. She said she would turn it on sometimes when she wanted some background noise and she watched the news occasionally. The small tube TV he had at his place was hooked up to rabbit ears and got such poor reception he often wondered why he had the damned thing to begin with. He went to one of the sports bars on the island if he wanted to watch a football game and that was about the extent of his TV time.

He stayed for another hour, and when she walked him to her door she kissed him again.

"I am sober now," she said, the offer in her tone unmistakable.

"So am I," he said. "Which is why I'm able to walk out of here with my virtue intact."

She snorted. "Sorry, Grady, but I think that ship sailed long ago."

"Hm," he hummed, nodding in agreement and scratching his chin. "My dignity, then."

He was in the hall as she stood in her doorway. She reached a hand out to run down his chest. "Isn't dignity a little overrated though?" she mused playfully. "Sex is so much better."

"Only if you're doing it right."

She stepped closer to him. "And you do it _so_ right, Mr. Grady." The desirable moan in her voice nearly made his knees buckle.

"Damn you, Dearing," he breathed as he grabbed her face and kissed her again. Pulling back sharply, he made a show of collecting himself. "Marry me." She smiled and started pushing away from him, exactly as he had planned. Nothing like one of his quick proposals to make her withdraw from him, he thought wryly. "I'll call you," he promised with a grin.

She smiled again and closed the door as he turned to leave.

...

 **Grady.**

 **Dearing** , he responded.

 **Owen.**

 **Claire** , texted back with a smirk.

 **Tonight** , she said.

 **What about it?**

 **I'm coming over.**

 **Oh?**

 **And I'm staying.**

 **Oh.**

 **Oh? Really? That's it?**

 **Oh, yay...?** He knew he was pushing her buttons.

 **Unbelievable. Fine, I won't come over.**

 **No, no,** he backtracked, chuckling. **I want you to. I'm just surprised.**

 **Why?**

 **I thought you'd want to wait longer.** It had only been a little less than two weeks since Browning had left, after all.

 **I thought you said you've missed me.**

 **I have.**

 **So why are you fighting me on this?**

 **No one's fighting anything** , he insisted. **I just don't want to do anything you aren't ready for.**

 **It's hardly my first time. It's not even OUR first time.**

 **Just trying to be a gentleman, Dearing.**

 **I know. And I appreciate it. It's just that I've been missing that tongue of yours for far too long. I want to feel your hands on me.**

He fought a smile as he read her teasing texts.

 **What time will you be over?** he asked.

 **Seven** , she answered. **Will you be ready by then?**

 **I'm ready for you now. Come by my office. Let's have a repeat of that time we did it in here.**

 **I want you to have me against a wall.**

 **I have walls here** , he insisted.

 **Remember when you bent me over your dining table?**

 **Seems like you want to play that Make Me Scream game again.**

 **Well, you are very good at that game.**

 **You know, I always liked when you were on top...**

 **Well, if you succeed in making me scream tonight, maybe that's how I'll wake you in the morning.**

He leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. Thank God they were back to this, he thought. Thank fucking God.

 **Marry me.**

 **Don't ruin it.**

 **Fuck me** , he countered.

 **Happily. I'll see you at seven.**

...

She smiled coyly when she stepped out of her car. He was waiting for her on the steps of his shack. She strutted to him, grabbed his hand and pulled him up (with his assistance) and led him to the door of his trailer. Once inside she turned to him and latched her lips to his. She didn't waste any time working the buttons loose on his shirt as his hands grabbed at her ass while he maneuvered them to his bedroom.

She managed to remove most of their clothing on her own. He was far too preoccupied touching her newly exposed skin, willing the feel of her body against his to be seared into his brain. When all they had left on was their undergarments, she pushed him against the wall of his room between the doorway and the window to the right of his bed. He almost made the remark that she was supposed to be the one against the wall, but it died on his tongue as she dropped to her knees. Her hands grabbed the hem of his boxer briefs and pulled them down.

"What do you have to apologize for?" he asked playfully, using their old phrasing for oral sex.

"Taking so long," she said just before her hot tongue came out to wet his shaft before she quickly enveloped him in her mouth.

" _Ah, fuck_ ," he hissed. It had been too long, she was right. How he had survived a day without her, he couldn't figure out.

She wasn't down there for long. She was prepping him, he knew, making sure he was ready to go and wouldn't screw around and make her wait. She worked her way up his torso, trailing hot kisses until she reached his mouth were he quickly took over. He moved them closer to his nightstand so he could reach for a condom in his drawer. They never broke their kiss, not even while he slid the latex over himself.

He brought her back to the wall, where she said she wanted to be, and they slowed their efforts as they positioned themselves. He had one arm supporting most of her weight against the leverage of wall and used the other to guide himself to her entrance. Her arms and hands were wrapped around his neck and head as she continued kissing him.

She broke away as he slid into her, nearly effortlessly. They were perfect for each other, he thought not for the first time. Her moan of delight and breasts against his chest were small treasures that he found himself incredibly thankful to have again.

" _Oh_ -Owen," she breathed. "Oh, I missed you. _Fuck_ , I missed you."

He smiled against her neck, only able to respond with his own satisfied groan as he began moving within her.

She was perfect. So fucking perfect. What was it going to take, he wondered, to be able to do this until the day he died?

She moaned in time with each of his thrusts until her hands started clawing at his shoulders and back. Eventually she cried out with relief and he felt her orgasming walls flutter around him.

He paused, letting her catch her breath and to prolong his time with her.

"Did you...?" she asked.

"No," he said. "Are you okay?"

He felt her nodded as she clung to him. Making sure he had her supported, he stepped away from the wall. Her grip tightened around him and she groaned quietly as he walked, still firmly inside of her, to the bed were he sat down before gently rolling them to be over her.

"Owen," she sighed. Her eyes were closed and she licked her lips.

He could have told her then, too. But those three words would ruin her mood faster than if he suddenly told her he was married. He leaned down to capture her lips as he slowly eased himself out from her walls, only to push back in smoothly. She hummed and her hands found his chest.

"Fuck me, Owen," she demanded, breathless.

"I am, Dearing," he assured her with a whisper.

He shifted his weight down onto one forearm and brought his free hand down to her leg, lifting it higher on his hip before worming his way between their bodies to find her clit. He rubbed at it tenderly as he continued to fuck her at a much more measured pace. She gasped loudly at his touch. She brought her hands to her head, running her rigid fingers through her hair before they reached over her head to grab at the sheets. She preened and sighed and moaned as he continued, his mouth ducking down to one of her breasts as she arched her back. Her breathing hitched and she moaned loudly. She started panting. And all he could think about was her shuddering around him. How he could let go then. How she was staying the night and they could be back at it in another hour.

"Owen," she gasped suddenly. She tossed her head to the side and gasped again. Her back arched higher.

He felt one quick clench of her walls. He continued his actions, holding out. Another shudder followed quickly by another. She was getting louder. He let go, groaning with relief and she came a second later.

Minutes passed with them catching their breaths. He shifted to evenly hold himself up on both arms. His head was against her chest. He could feel and hear her heart pounding in her chest.

He nearly said it. _I love you._ Thinking it was enough for now.

"Oh, my God," she gasped. Her hands rubbed at her face. "Oh, my God," she said again.

He laughed. "Something wrong?"

She shook her head. "No. Absolutely nothing." She was still breathing heavy. "Wow."

He nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "You're amazing."

"Me?" she asked incredulously. "Owen, that was..."

He peaked up at her as she trailed off, with a cocky grin. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

She smirked and pushed at his weight until he moved and rolled to be next to her. She rolled as well, though, and straddled him, her mouth on his neck as his hands found the familiar curve of her hips.

"That might have been worth the wait," she said tiredly against his skin.

"Glad you think so," he said. "I'd prefer to have been doing this all along." She hummed a quiet laugh. "You do know you're never allowed to leave this bungalow, right?" he joked. "You're officially my hostage." He wrapped his arms over her for good measure.

"I might be okay with that," she laughed. "But I do at least need to grab my overnight bag from my car."

He shook his head. "I'll do it. You stay naked and in bed."

…

Word slowly spread around the island that Browning had left. Barry asked Owen if that changed anything between him and Claire. Obviously, it had. But they hadn't discussed - he hadn't been willing to bring it up - how to handle their relationship now. So he played by the old rules of keeping it quiet. He figured that was the safest bet until she told him otherwise. Lying to Barry wasn't easy, though. And Claire showing up later that same day for an unexpected visit to the paddock, asking to speak privately with Owen in his office, certainly didn't help convince Barry they weren't seeing each other.

She _had_ come to actually talk business. She did let him kiss her briefly, however, before putting a respectable distance between them as she spoke about Hoskins' outrage over the ordeal with the second generation of raptors. There was pressure from InGen. They were threatening to pull funding from the park, leaving a large gap of funds that would need to be covered by Masrani Global. Masrani wasn't too happy about any of it. Claire explained she had spoken with him the previous day and insisted they should take Owen's opinion on the matter seriously.

"I told him that no one knows them like you do," she said with a crossed arms, leaning against the front edge of his desk. "You're the expert. But InGen pulling out is a massive problem. We couldn't afford most of the DNA development that we do here without them." She sighed. "I just wanted to give you heads up. Mr. Masrani might want to speak to you personally."

Owen nodded, thinking hard about all the variables. "What happens if you stick with what I say and InGen does pull out? What happens to me and my guys here? To the girls?"

Claire shook her head, unknowing. "I don't think Mr. Masrani will terminate them. He doesn't like to do that sort of thing if he can help it. But it would mean a serious scale back of funding at the very least. And once they've-" She stopped herself and eyed him warily.

"Died?" he said helpfully.

"Yes. Once they've passed away," she said kindly, "the whole thing will be scrapped. No more generations. This paddock will be used to house something else." She shrugged. "Unless we could figure out a way to show them safely to the public. But they've always been too dangerous for that option."

Owen nodded, agreeing. He also didn't care to be the handler of show animals, so there was that bias. The corner of her mouth lifted in a sheepish smile. "Sorry to spring all this on you. And I don't want you to worry about having a job," she said, suddenly earnest. "I can find you something. You're too experienced to just let go. Unless, of course, you wanted to leave." He heard her forced nonchalance and smirked. "That would be your call."

"I don't want to leave, Claire," he promised softly. He inched closer to her. "I'm very attached to this place."

She stepped closer to him too, bringing her hands up to his shoulders and brushing off dust. "Good," she said quietly. She brushed her lips against his. "Are you coming over to my place tonight or am I going to yours?"

They'd been alternating staying at his bungalow and at her apartment for the last couple of weeks. The had only spent two nights apart so far, still very much in the "honeymoon phase" of their relationship where they couldn't keep their hands off each other. Owen was just happy that things were clearly different this time around. She didn't pretend that what they had could end at any moment. They might not be making plans for months down the road, or even a week into the future, but she committed most of her nights with him, letting him know if she had something coming up in the coming few days that would keep her away. It was a step in the right direction. It was better than before.

"I'll come to you," he answered, knowing she was more comfortable in her own bed.

"Maybe I should come to you," she countered. "Your bike draws attention."

He paused as he thought over her reasoning. That meant she didn't want people to know about them.

"It's a big building," he said to assuage her trepidation. "No one would know who I'm there for."

He didn't want to fight her on it. She had to take things at her own pace. It killed him. He wanted her to be as proud of the relationship they had as he was, but he also knew how private she was. People had known about her and Browning, but they never made any public displays of affection, they were always professional. Maybe she didn't think he could be professional. Or maybe she didn't think they'd be able to abstain from PDA if they went out. The latter was a nicer thought but he worried it was the former. Either way, they weren't far enough into their relationship for him to make a fuss.

She nodded, seeing his logic. "Okay. I'll be home around six-thirty."

He kissed her gently a few times before letting her leave.

* * *

 **I always tend to think that stories get a bit dull once the OTP finally get together. I'm trying to keep this entertaining enough for you all to stay interested until I get to the ending I want. I'm having to rework a few of the coming chapters to get the timeline right but I'm thinking I have another five to seven chapters left. I hope you all stick with it! I have so much fun writing this story.**

 **Please leave a review! Thanks!**


	20. Chapter 20

**I can't fully express how excited I am about the upcoming chapters without giving something away, so I won't even try.**

 **Thank you so much for your love of this story. Your gushing reviews are so inspiring and very much appreciated. It brings me so much happiness to read that you are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. So my shout out to you guys: you freaking rock! And I love you. Marry me.**

* * *

The first time they showered together was at his bungalow after a long evening spent wrapped around each other. He had been dozing when, standing by the edge of the bed, she had grabbed his hand and whispered, "Come with me." She lead him by the hand to his small bathroom where she turned on the water. He was still naked from their previous activities, but she had to divest herself of one of his shirts before stepping in.

His shower was very small. There was hardly enough room for him when he was alone let alone with someone else. He was half asleep anyway, so other than some slow kisses and his hands holding her to him, they didn't do anything sexual. Unless her running her soapy hands over his body to clean him counted. It probably did. It had felt amazing. But nothing more happened between them that night.

The second time they showered together was at her place. They'd both had a long day and he knew he smelled like shit. He told her he wanted to shower as soon as he stepped into her apartment. She had nodded, scrunching her nose at the smell of him. After a few minutes alone under the water, she stepped in with him. They had significantly more space to move around each other. And this time he was much more alert as she lathered his chest with her bath soap. He returned the favor in kind, kneeling on the tiled ground to wash her legs. He lifted one leg over his shoulder and apologized profusely for...well, what did it matter when her soft moans were echoing off the walls and her hands were in his hair?

...

The first time he made her breakfast he'd woken up ravenously hungry as she was stepping into the shower to start her day. He'd gone to her kitchen and found some basics to make omelets. She'd been pleasantly surprised when she walked out of her bedroom and found him pouring two glasses of orange juice for them. She'd made a comment about how she could get used to that. He'd smiled and felt his heart pound at the thought.

The first time she'd made him breakfast, she prepared them each a bowl of cereal and milk, handing his over as she sat beside him on his bed. They ate in silence and when they were finished, he placed both their bowls on the nightstand next to him, then pulled her body under his.

...

About two months into their relationship - it was the best word for it though he never said it aloud lest she freak out - she called him as she was leaving her office, wanting to meet up for dinner. She was too hungry to wait, she explained. He let her pick the restaurant and met her a half hour later at the cafe on the Boardwalk for a couple of quick sandwiches. He'd been unusually nervous to see her as it was the first time they'd been out and about socially since it all started. He let her set the pace, not wanting to kiss her hello only to have her withdraw from him. She had already ordered and paid by the time he got there, so he didn't have to feel awkward wondering if they were paying separate or if she'd let him pay for the both of them. Initially, she made no motions to suggest they were anything more than two people meeting up randomly for food. Towards the end, however, she had placed a hand on his arm and thanked him for meeting her.

"Your place tonight?" she asked openly. It wasn't like there were a ton of park employees around. It was all guests except for those working behind the counter. But it still felt good, her acknowledging them out in the open like that. "I have my bag in my car. I can head over now if that's okay."

"'Course, Dearing," he said with a grin.

"Why do you still call me Dearing?" she asked, regarding him with a cautious smirk.

He shrugged. "Habit. Should have let me call you Claire from the start if you didn't like it."

She shook her head. "I don't mind it. You're the only one that does - to my face, anyway. Everyone else calls me Miss Dearing and a few call me Claire."

"So you're calling me special," he teased.

She laughed and gathered their trash before standing to exit.

...

The second time they ate out together, he had mentioned he was going to pick up some tacos at Sunrio before heading over to her place.

"Why don't we meet there?" she asked. It had been a week since their outing on the Boardwalk.

He agreed, still surprised, and met her there shortly after they hung up. Sunrio was the tequila bar they had gone to after the wildlife conservation fundraiser and where they got stupid drunk, leading to them going back to his place and hook up for the first time. A part of him was surprised she'd even step foot in there again. Maybe the place now held a sentimental meaning for her like it did for him. Regardless, he didn't dare mention that night to her.

She had the fish tacos. And they were apparently so delicious that she asked to meet him there three more times over the next two weeks, claiming she craved them. He was happy to oblige in order to spend more time out with her.

...

Owen was dressing in Claire's bedroom as she stood in the bathroom putting on her makeup for the day. They had a better routine now, nearly three and half months into things. They still kept their nights split fairly evenly between his place and hers with maybe a slight majority spent at her apartment. She was more comfortable there, he knew. But regardless of where they slept, he usually got up and made them breakfast. She took to long to get ready to prepare anything substantial anyhow. She said he cooked better meals anyway. He didn't really believe it, because food was food to him. He had the suspicion that she just liked not having to cook.

Her phone started ringing and buzzing across her nightstand. "Will you bring that to me?" she asked.

He obliged and grabbed the cell, seeing the name "David" and Browning's picture on the screen. He bit his cheek but didn't say anything to her as she took the phone from him, her eyes wide and glanced up to him when she saw the caller ID.

"David? Hi," she greeted. He turned and headed back to grab his vest off the back of her armchair. "How have you been? How's London?" He left the bedroom, heading for her kitchen to make breakfast, not wanting to eavesdrop.

He was stiff as he chopped the onion and tomato, the knife cutting easily through and making a loud thumping noise as it hit the cutting board. His force was telling of his mood. He slammed the refrigerator door closed harder than he meant to after grabbing the eggs. He knew he was being childish and his jealousy wouldn't help anything. He took a deep, steadying breath as he placed the skillet over the burner.

He was flipping an omelet over as she entered the kitchen. She opened the fridge and grabbed the orange juice, pouring them each a glass.

"What did Browning want?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"Just to say hi," she answered, her voice a little high.

Owen nodded, focusing on the eggs in front of him. "You two talk?"

"What does it matter?"

He caught the warning in her tone. _Tread carefully_ , her unspoken words to him.

He shrugged, bothered. "Just wondering."

They ate in silence. He finished quickly, dropping his plate and glass in the sink. He gave a fake excuse of needing to get to the paddock early so as to get out of there. It was a bit passive-aggressive, sure, but he was jealous and upset and the tone she had used with him grated on his nerves. He wasn't going to forbid her from talking to him. He just wanted to know.

Her text to him came a few hours later. **Do you want to be alone tonight?**

 **Sure.**

Ten minutes later she texted him back. **Or you could tell me what happened this morning and we can move passed this.**

He didn't answer - because what was he supposed to say? _I'm jealous?_ His pride wouldn't let him admit it to her.

She texted again after lunch. **So you're not going to talk to me?**

 **I'm busy with the girls** , he replied.

 **You're in your office.**

He swiveled in his chair to look out the window. Her car wasn't in the parking lot.

 **How would you know?**

 **I'm looking at the cameras in Control. You're not outside.**

 **Cameras aren't everywhere.**

 **Fine. I'm just going to sit here and watch the one pointed at the office door. If you walk out of that building, I'll see you.**

 **Don't be such a stalker.**

 **Don't be such a child. Adults discuss things.**

 **Well then, I guess I'm a child** , he responded petulantly.

 **We have to communicate, Owen. Everyone knows communication is critical in relationships.**

He stared at her words. _Relationship_. She'd used the word. He sighed, partially in relief, partially in frustration. What was wrong with him? He picked up his phone to text back.

 **I don't want to be alone tonight. I'll see you at your place. We'll talk then.**

 **No, I'll come over to yours. It's been a while since we've stayed there.**

He considered insisting they they stay at her apartment, but he didn't want to argue anymore.

...

"You'd still be with him if he hadn't left," Owen finally said. They'd been sitting in uncomfortable silence on his dock for a while now, staring out at the calm waters. They were the words he'd been chewing over ever since they came to him a few hours earlier. He realized that was what bothered him most about her talking to Browning.

She didn't respond, which was answer enough. He sighed, stood from the chair, and headed towards his trailer.

"Owen," she called, following after him. "It's not true."

He opened his door and stepped inside. "Yeah, it is." He grabbed a beer from his fridge. "You really would have left him?" he asked incredulously. "And for _me?_ I don't buy it."

"Things were complicated," she tried to explain. "I felt guilty."

"'He's a good man,' that's what you told me," he said, his volume rising. "You didn't want him to go. I'm here as - what? Your consolation prize? You don't get to stay with him so better call Owen! At least you know he's willing to fuck!"

"That's not what happened!" she cried. "I don't think of you that way." He laughed snidely and took a quick gulp from his bottle. "Owen, I was tearing myself to pieces being with him! I wanted you! I missed you!"

"Then you should have left him sooner!" he yelled. "God damnit, Claire!"

She steadied herself. He watched it happen. Her breathing evened out. She pulled her shoulders back and held her head high.

"He was a good man. He was _kind_ to me," she said firmly, but no longer shouting. "It was hard to think of leaving something like that for something so unpredictable." She waved a hand limply in his direction. "I didn't know what it would be like to be with you. I didn't know if you just wanted to fuck me again or if you really wanted something different. But that doesn't mean that I didn't think about it." She stepped closer to him. "I felt awful for it, because he didn't deserve to be with someone who kept one foot out the door, but that's what I did. And I don't know that he ever noticed." She reached for him and he almost took a step back. "David and I cared for each other." Her hands were on either side of his face and her voice softened. "But I wanted you."

After a moment of mulling over her words, he nodded and gave her a quick kiss, a stubborn apology. He still felt jealous, and he probably always would. He didn't like the insecurity, the unsureness of it all. She says she wanted him but she doesn't want people to know about them. She'll meet him out for dinner in public but they don't hold hands, they don't kiss, they don't touch at all, usually. He's loved her for so long but he's too afraid to tell her because he knows it would spook her and who the hell knew what would happen after that. It wasn't normal. It wasn't right.

She dropped her hands and he took another sip of his beer. "He called today because he heard about the raptors," she said quietly. "About how InGen is putting pressure on us. And he said he thought I should get together with you and work up a strategy to deal with it. Because he thinks you're a good guy and you want what's best for the assets. Which made me feel terrible." She smiled sadly.

"Because if he knew about us, he'd hate me," Owen agreed. "I was trying to steal you away from him."

She shook her head and looked back up. "No, you weren't. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Claire, I told you to leave him. After the dinner with you sister and nephews, remember?"

She nodded. "I remember. I kissed you, though. That's worse."

He saw the twitch of her lips. She wanted to smile. Maybe it was the memory of their "forbidden" kiss, or that one of his hands was now gripping her side, his thumb rubbing a small pattern over her blouse. But she didn't actually smile, and he figured the reason had a lot to do with his mood.

"I would have taken you on your desk if I didn't have an ounce of self control," he said, because he hated seeing her apprehensive. Her smiling was always better, even if he had to put up with some irritation over a relationship that moved painfully slow compared to what he wanted.

She smirked, and he smiled softly. "And now you'd be allowed to."

He quirked a brow. "Seriously? In your office?"

"No," she said laughing. "I just mean that now you're allowed to have sex with me when I kiss you."

"Oh," he said, disappointed. "Well, yeah, I knew that."

She shoved at his shoulder playfully before wrapping her arms around his neck. "So if I kiss you now, what happens?"

"I think you'll just have to do it and find out," he said, his voice low as he leaned towards her.

"Always so full of suspense, with you," she said before pushing her lips to his.

His beer was left forgotten on the counter has he turned them and headed to his bed.

* * *

 **There needed to be a discussion about Browning. It probably won't be the last, either. Let me know how you think Owen and Claire handled this.**

 **Review! Review! Review!**


	21. Chapter 21

They hadn't spoken of Browning since their argument a couple of weeks ago. Owen was still a little agitated, but that was waning as the time passed and they spent more wonderfully sexy nights together. She'd been going down on him a lot more lately - apologizing, he thought. He wasn't complaining; nor did she when he returned the favor.

it wasn't all about sex, though. In fact, there had been quite the steep decrease in the number of times per week they fucked. On the one hand, it was an it upsetting, but on the other, he knew that meant they were moving beyond that "honeymoon phase" and turning into something _more_. And he was very anxious to get to _more_ with her.

...

On one such sexless night, she was staying at his place. They had shared a meal and conversation and he showed her the large, full moon rising over the lagoon. They lounged together in his hammock, talking about the raptors and InGen's new threat of legal action against Masrani Global. Mr. Masrani had sided with Owen, despite all the pressure, and agreed they shouldn't add more raptors to the island. They then discussed what little progress that had been made regarding bringing in chickens to farm as they readied for bed. Soon, he had kissed her goodnight and they were drifting off, his arm tucked under her neck, holding one of her hands as she slept with her back to him.

He had a strange dream. Something about buzzing noises and machines beeping. There was a phone ringing that he couldn't find to answer. When he stirred awake, he realized it was his phone buzzing across the nightstand, and hers, ringing in her purse on the dresser, that had caused the frustrating dream.

"Yeah?" he answered groggily. It was still dark out. What time was it? Claire rolled over in her sleep, groaning quietly. She was waking up, too.

" _Owen_ ," Barry said, his voice strained. " _Why haven't you been answering your phone? The raptors got out. They're loose!_ "

"What?" he said, his sleep logged brain registering the panic but not able to respond fast enough. "They're out?" He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "How?"

"Is that my phone?" Claire asked, her voice higher than usual.

"Get up," he told her, holding the phone away from him as he stood, looking around for a pair of pants. "Claire!" he called urgently.

" _Are you home?_ " he heard Barry ask.

"Yeah," he answered, fumbling with his pant legs.

Claire stumbled out of the bed and grabbed her cell. "Lowery?" she asked as she answered. "What's wrong? What happened?" Even in the near darkness, Owen could see her face pale. "Close the gates. Get ACU out there. Get all the guests in Zone A then seal it," she said, her composure and wits rapidly coming back. "Are you tracking them? Where are they?"

" _Owen_ ," Barry said. " _We're trying to follow them. They've picked up a scent._ "

"They're hunting?" Owen asked incredulously. _Shit!_

" _Or tracking,_ " Barry said uneasily. " _They're heading your way_."

"We have to go," Claire hissed at him, apparently having just received the same information he had.

"How close?" he asked Barry.

" _We'll be there_ ," Barry assured him, though his words only proved to be disconcerting. That meant they were too close. " _We're right behind them, Owen. I've got our ACU team with me._ "

He hung up the phone tossing it somewhere in his haste. He reached under his bed and pulled out the long rifle box. He opened it and pulled his nightstand drawer open as well, searching for the handgun he kept there. He grabbed both firearms and held his hand out to Claire. "Get off the phone," he told her quietly, trying to sound calm.

Her eyes were wide. He could hear Lowery's phone still coming through the earpiece before being cut off by her ending the call.

"Come with me," he said softly, still holding his hand out to her. She took it and he immediately pulled her to the bathroom. He moved her to crouch down in the shower. "Have you ever shot one of these?" he asked, showing her the hand gun. She nodded. "Okay. Good," he breathed. "Safety's off," he said as he flicked the small switch and handed it to her. "Shoot anything that comes through that door. Unless it's me," he added, only half joking.

"No, no, no," she said quickly, grabbing his arm. "Where are you going? You can't go."

"Claire-" he started.

"Owen, you can't-"

" _Sh!_ " he said suddenly. He held a hand over her mouth and a finger to his lips as he listened.

He heard a faint sound, something between a clicking and a tapping noise. Silently, he turned, pulling the rifle off his shoulder and slowly edged toward the door of the bathroom. Once outside the room he closed the door after a quick glance and nod at Claire. A noise outside drew his attention. It sounded like something leaning against the railing of his shack and fallen. His fishing poles, maybe?

He crouched low as he passed the window over his sink. Lights flashed momentarily through the window as a car pulled into the clearing his trailer sat on. There was some shouting and then, suddenly, shots. There was a loud thump over his head - one of them was on the roof.

"Delta!" He heard Barry's voice call out. "No!"

Owen hurried to his door and looked out the small window. He took a quick breath then pushed outside, shutting the door quickly behind him, his rifle raised as he aimed at the top of his trailer. Echo was there, her eyes trained on him and her tail twitching behind her. Before anything could happen, a bolt hit her and she fell, sliding off the backside of the trailer.

"Owen!" Barry yelled. "Get out of there!"

He walked backwards as quickly as he could towards the ACU vehicle, his rifle sweeping through his line of sight, trusting the guys behind him to cover his back.

"Come on," Barry urged at which point Owen turned around and had to step over another fallen raptor - Delta, he realized - to reach the vehicle. "Take one of these," he said, handing over a nonlethal rifle, charged with tasers.

"How did they get out?" Owen demanded.

"Must have climbed the walls," he said. "The gates never opened."

"And they want to add more," Owen scoffed.

Another vehicle pulled up, more ACU. The driver got out and from no where, Charlie was suddenly on him. The man cried out in shock and pain. Acting quickly, Charlie was stunned by multiple troopers.

"Where are you, Blue?" Barry muttered.

Many of guards had night vision goggles on and were looking around in the trees surrounding them. It was silent save for the agonizing cries of the guard who Charlie attacked coming from inside the car were others had stashed him for the time being.

"I need to get back to the trailer," Owen said. He felt so uneasy about the quiet he thought he might be sick. Claire was in there alone with only a handgun to protect herself. He prayed she was quick with it if she needed to be.

"Why?" Barry hissed.

Owen didn't answer, and when his friend looked back at him, bewildered, he shifted uneasily.

"Is someone in there?" Barry asked. Owen nodded, his jaw clenching. "Dearing?" he asked incredulously. "Jesus, Owen," he griped. "Hell of a time."

"Can't they tell us where she is?" someone behind Owen whispered.

"Control," another trooper hailed softly into his earpiece. "We need the location of the fourth asset."

After a short pause, the trooper whistled quietly to draw their attention. He made a few hand signals and a small group split off, Owen and Barry following. They headed around the perimeter of the small clearing until they could see the back of the trailer. The trooper held up his hand so everyone stopped. Those with night vision must have spotted her in the trees. They aimed and shot off the tasers but missed. Owen caught a brief look at her blue stripes as she ran to the back of his shack. They continued firing. Owen and Barry tried calling out for her to stop, not that they expected her to listen but maybe she'd slow down a little.

Following after her, the small team rounded the corner of trailer. There was an angry cry from over there heads and Blue jumped off the roof of the shack, landing on two troopers before attacking a third. Owen fired and caught her in the neck just as she was about to chomp down on the guard's head.

The other members of ACU swarmed around them and came to the aid of their fallen comrades. Owen was breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on Blue, unable to fully comprehend the madness that the night had become. He shoved the rifle into Barry's chest and jogged around his trailer to the door.

"Claire!" he called out. He paused at the bathroom door, not wanting to spook her while she had a gun. "It's over. I'm coming in." He opened the door and she met him half way, leaving the gun on the floor of the shower. She threw her arms around him and he hugged her tightly.

"I heard screaming," she breathed.

He nodded against her. "Yeah, I know. But it's done."

"Are they...?"

"They're knocked out," he said, not knowing if she'd have preferred the raptors be spared or killed at that moment.

She nodded and hugged him tighter before pulling back an hitting his shoulder. "Never do that again!" she warned. "You do not get to leave me in here like I'm a child!"

"Come on," he said, not willing to argue with her. "I'll take you home."

"Owen," she said, still angry. "You can't do that." He heard her voice crack. "I go where you go."

He nodded. "Okay." He grabbed her hand. "I'm going to your place, so that means you're coming with me."

"You don't have to stay?"

"I have to be with you," he said. His tone was hard but he wasn't upset with her. He was angry that the girl's had escaped somehow. In the morning he'd have to comb the entire paddock himself. He didn't trust anyone else's eyes at the moment.

He grabbed her purse off the dresser, tossing it to her, and grabbed his phone off his bed. She collected some of her clothes and hurriedly pulled her skirt up her bare legs and threw her jacket on over his shirt she had put on before going to bed. She stuffed her blouse into her purse and took his hand again as he lead her out.

There were curious glances as they walked to Claire's car, but the only person to say anything about her being there was the one trooper who came to talk to Owen about transporting the raptors to the Ark.

"We'll keep them sedated. We have to know what the problem was at the paddock before we let them back in," he said. "The vets will want to look over them anyway. That one," he gestured to Charlie, "got hit pretty bad." Owen nodded and then the man looked to Claire. "They didn't tell us you would be here, Miss Dearing. I'm happy to see you're safe."

She cleared her throat. "Thank you."

"I'll check in with Gilles in the morning," Owen told him. "Make sure Barry stays with the girls."

The man nodded and Owen opened the door to the driver's seat to Claire. But she declined, shaking her head. "I can't. You drive." She handed him the keys from her purse and walked to the other side of the car.

...

Later, when they were laying down in her bed after he'd showered again and she had made the sad comment that people would know about them now, she turned to him, wrapping one arm around his chest.

"I'm mad at you for leaving me there."

He kissed the top of her head. "Yeah, I know."

"If something had happened..."

"I'm okay," he assure her.

"What if one had gotten inside?" she asked softly, her voice full of concern. "What if I had to...?" She turned her face into his side but she wasn't crying. "You would hate me," she said sadly.

"No, I wouldn't," he said with a soft sigh.

"You'd never forgive me," she insisted.

He rolled over to look at her, mad that she would ever think such a thing. "No," he said firmly. He placed his hand on her cheek. "I wouldn't have given you the gun if I didn't want you to protect yourself."

"I know you care about them."

"You're more important," he admitted without shame or hesitation. "By a lot, Claire. If I have to choose between you and the raptors, I choose you. Every time, okay?"

She shifted closer and kissed him gently.

"I love you," he said when she pulled back. It felt like as good a time as any. A fright like the one they had that night did wonders for putting things in perspective. He didn't want to live this life with her and never say it. She had to know. He needed her to hear it.

She didn't say it back but she also didn't pull away or run. Instead, she kissed him again and then snuggled into his chest. Her hands drew small circles on his back as they fell asleep.


	22. Chapter 22

"That's unbelievable," Barry muttered as he scratched his head.

Owen crouched down and observed the large rocks around them, the broken pad lock, and the open grate of a storm drain. They were in a far back corner of the paddock, well away from any known digital surveillance. He pulled his phone from his pocket then kicked his legs back behind him, lowering his abdomen to the earth and ducking his head inside the hole. He used his phone as a flashlight and wiggled further inside to get a better view. But there was nothing to see. The tunnel was pitch black and the light didn't reach very far.

He pulled himself up and out, standing and brushing himself off. "Those brats," he grumbled. He looked around at the mud, dirt, and leaves around them. Their footprints were everywhere. "Alright, no one touch anything. I want Hoskins to see this with his own eyes. What time does he get in?"

"He's scheduled to arrive by chopper around two," Claire answered, checking her watch. "So three more hours."

"Okay," Owen nodded. "I'm going to see where it leads. Anyone have a flashlight with them?" He looked around at the few paddock techs and ACU guards around them. They had been combing the paddock all morning, looking for signs of how the girls had managed to escape. Owen and Barry had been walking the walls, thinking they must have found a way out going over. It wasn't until a tech had found the busted open storm drain grate that they realized they went _under_.

"You're not going in there," Claire said with a scoff.

Owen looked at her, brows raised. "Yeah, I am," he said simply. He grabbed a proffered flashlight from one of the guards.

"Then I'm going with you," she said stubbornly.

"Claire, it's a storm drain," he said like that should have been reason enough for her not to go. He sat down on the edge of the opening and turned on the light.

"So?"

He looked over at her, his eyes taking in the white button down, her fitted black pants, and the shiny black pumps on her feet. She'd dressed down compared to her normal business attire as she'd been exhausted when they woke up that morning and hardly made it out the door in time.

"So how expensive are those shoes?" he asked. "Because you'll never want to wear them again if you go down there."

"She could go change," Barry suggested. Owen could tell he was enjoying playing devil's advocate.

"Who's side are you on?" he asked accusingly.

"Owen, this tunnel could go for miles," she argued.

"No, ma'am," one of the guards spoke up. "They got out and ran past the offices. That's how we knew they had escaped. It has to let up somewhere close."

"At least let me call Lowery first," she bargained. "He might be able to find out where it leads in the blueprints, or something."

Owen waved her on, conceding. She stepped away to make the call and Barry crouched next to him, smirking.

"So," he said, his tone full of humor. "You and her?"

Owen raised a brow and glanced around at the men behind them. "She's not happy that people found out," he said quietly. "So try not to be a dick about it in front of her, alright?"

"Still embarrassed by you?" he asked tauntingly.

"Apparently," he grumbled.

"Lowery, I'm staring right at it. It's here." Her angry voice carried over to them.

"How long?" Barry asked.

"Long enough, alright?" Owen said, sighing in aggravation. He wasn't mad that word was spreading, only that it spreading made her upset. And Barry bugging him about it had him wishing it had stayed quiet.

"You never tell me anything," he griped. "You're a shitty friend."

"A shitty friend would make you do this," he countered, pointing inside the drain.

"Okay," Claire said with a sigh, stepping closer to them again. "Apparently this was put in when they were building the original park. Lowery found it in the old records. We didn't have anything about it in ours." That didn't surprise Owen. He hadn't know it was there either. "Lowery says it's just a run off drain. It's leads to the ocean." She pointed in the direction of the cliffs. "So how could they have gotten back over here?"

"Maybe they climbed up the cliffs," a tech suggested.

"Or there's another tunnel leading off it that's not on the books," Owen said. "Either way, we have to know for sure."

He slid off the edge and landed on the squishy ground at the bottom. There was a puddle of mud that he splashed in as he landed.

"Grady!" he heard Claire admonish.

He glanced up, smiling. The top edge of the drainage hole was only a few feet over his head. He saw Barry glance over at Claire.

"Are you beginning to second guess being with him, yet?"

"Hey!" Owen said, offended. "Shut up, Barry."

Claire huffed an annoyed sigh and crouched down before sitting on the ground and swinging her legs into the hole. She held her hands down to him. "Come on," she said impatiently. "Help me down."

"Dearing," he sighed, exasperated. "It's just a fucking tunnel. Why do you need to come?"

"I go where you go," she said firmly, but in a hushed tone like she didn't want the others to hear.

It was the same words she'd spoken to him the previous night when she was angry that he'd left her in the trailer to fend for herself. He felt pretty bad about it. Her other words from last night - _what if one had gotten inside_ \- gave him a terrible chill.

"I'm standing in two inches of mud right now," he said. "You're sure you want to come down here?"

She nodded, unfazed, so he relented. He reached up and grabbed at her hips as she scooted her way forward, holding onto his shoulders. He supported her weight as she slid into the hole. Rather than letting her step into the muck, he let her stand on the tops of his shoes and steadied her balance as she stepped into the tunnel which had only a trickle of old water running through it as the edge of the cylinder was just barely raised above the layer of mud. Owen gave one last glance back up at Barry before taking the flashlight back out of his pocket and leading the way for Claire.

She was holding on to the back of his shirt as they walked in a slightly crouched position. The sound of her heels echoed faintly off the concrete tubing. About fifty feet in, they came across a partially masticated rat.

"One of them got a snack," he muttered. He walked slower as they passed it, not wanting her to loose her balance as she stepped over it. "You really didn't have to come."

"It's just as much my responsibility to know what happened as it is yours," she said. "Besides, imagine how impressed Mr. Masrani will be when I tell him that I personally checked out the storm drain."

Owen snorted, laughing. "Okay. Do you want to take a selfie for photographic proof?"

"Maybe later," she replied dryly.

They continued walking, coming across a few more rats along the way

"I just didn't know...what this was," she said, sounding a little unsteady.

"The storm drain?" he asked, confused.

"No. Us," she explained. "I didn't know we were going in this direction. I wasn't sure what we were."

He paused and turned back to her, understanding now that she was discussing their relationship. He was a little surprised she'd brought it up, thinking she might have wanted to pretend that he never told her he loved her. That morning they had hardly said a word to each other through the haze of exhaustion. She'd kissed him sleepily when he handed her a cup of coffee in the kitchen, her hair still tangled and wavy, and her eyes barely open. It had been peaceful, not awkward, he thought. They were both too tired for awkward, maybe. He'd hugged her tightly and kissed her again before getting on his bike and heading over to the Ark to see the girls. She had met up with him at the paddock later after he called to tell her about the storm drain they found, and by then they were too keyed up in the discovery for things to be weird between them.

"What did you think we were?" he asked.

She shrugged a little, the motion looked odd as her neck was bent forward to avoid the top of the tube. "Having fun?" she suggested. "We never said we were exclusive. I didn't know what you were thinking."

"Claire," he said. He recognized his patronizing tone but could hardly help it. "I've spent almost every night with you the past few months. When the hell would I have had time to find someone else?"

Again, she shrugged, a small smile forming on her lips. At least she realized the ridiculousness of her suggestion, he thought. "I don't know," she said. "I'm not with you all day, every day. You could have women stop by the paddock for all I know."

"Oh my God," he scoffed, shaking his head and turning back to continue following their path. He chuckled. "No, Claire, I haven't had mistresses coming by my office."

"Alright," she said lightly. "Well, now I know."

"Yeah, and is there something I should know about? Any other boyfriends _I_ should be aware of?" he asked incredulously, never truly believing that she would be seeing someone else.

"No, sadly there have been no others," she said teasingly. He shook his head again, grinning though she couldn't see. "So are you upset with me?"

"For not knowing we were exclusive? Yeah, a little."

"No, for last night," she said in a small voice. "For not saying it back."

He stopped and turned to her again. "No, Dearing." Even with the flashlight pointed at the ground, her eyes shone bright. "I wasn't expecting you to say it back."

"You know, right?" she asked earnestly, taking a small step forward. "You know I care about you. I'm happy with you."

He smiled. "I had hoped. It's nice to hear you say it, though." She smiled too.

Turning back again, he continued to lead them. They rounded a bend and the hazy light he had begun to notice became bright as the end of the tunnel was only about sixty yards ahead of them.

"No other tunnels," Claire observed. "So they had to have climbed out and ran back, like the tech said."

"Looks that way," he mused.

"How did they find your trailer, though?"

"Barry said he could tell they were tracking something. I ended up being it, I guess."

"So they can sniff people out? Like dogs?"

"Like predators," he amended.

"You saw them this morning? Were they okay?"

"Yeah, for the most part," he answered. "No broken bones. A few cuts and scrapes. They're still sedated though. We won't know anything for sure until we can wake them up."

"I just don't understand why they bypassed all those people at the paddock to head for you," she wondered.

"Yeah," he agreed, baffled. "I don't get it either. Hunting comes second nature to them. You'd think they'd try to at least take out those guys before coming for me."

"Thank God they didn't," she muttered.

"Yeah. Thank God."

Thank God, indeed. That would have been terrible. Thank God they hadn't headed towards the guest areas. Thank God it ended the way it did. It could have been much, much worse.

"Do you think they were just looking for you, because...I don't know...they missed you?"

"Seems unlikely," he said, pondering. "Maybe I pissed them off and they wanted to take me out."

"Don't say that," she chided his joking. "Maybe it wasn't you they wanted. Maybe it was me."

"Yeah, maybe they've been smelling you on me and wanted to make sure you were treating me right," he teased.

"They could have been jealous," she offered. "You're right. What if they could smell me and didn't like it?"

They reached the edge of the concrete tube and Owen held a hand back to halt Claire as he stopped. There was only a few inches of rock before the ground fell way to the cliffside and crashing waves below.

"Do you think that could be it?" she continued. "That it was my scent?"

He shook his head doubtfully. "I'm not saying they wouldn't smell you on me. But we've been together for a while now. Not to mention before when we were sleeping together. I think they would have freaked out a while ago if they were annoyed with your smell."

"What would have made them do it now, though? This storm drain has been here, they probably knew about it. Why did they only just now break it open?"

"If I knew," he began, taking a closer step to the edge and peaking at the surrounding rocks, "I would tell you. Maybe they finally got bored enough to try it. We've been giving them more downtime to roam their paddock. We've cut back on the training a little now that they're getting older. Maybe that did it."

"Can you see anything?" she asked as he carefully looked over the cliff face to his right.

"Yeah," he said. "There's claw marks." He couldn't see much higher above his head without risking his footing, but there were definite scorings in the rock.

"They could really climb up this?" she asked, surprised. "It seems too steep."

"They're more agile than we are," he said. "You'd be amazed at what they can climb. That's why I was so sure they'd climbed over the wall."

"Here," she took out her cell phone and handed it to him, "take pictures. I'll put them in the report."

He did as she requested and she scrolled through the photos when he handed the phone back to her. He took the opportunity to look her over again. He wanted to laugh, looking at her, there, in a storm drain of all places. But even standing at the uncomfortable angle needed, her hair blowing in the wind from the sea, he was struck still by how beautiful she was. He could reach out and touch her, kiss her, and later he could hold her to him has they slept or had sex. How did he get so lucky?

In the brief moment where she was distracted, he thought over their relationship thus far; the casual sex, her sister and nephews visiting, his plea for her to be with him, her kissing him in her office, the night of the hurricane, telling her he couldn't be friends, meeting her at the mosasaurus aquarium, their dinner dates, the not-so casual sex, Browning's call, and telling her he loved her. Maybe it wasn't the most conventional of relationships, and knowing her and the way she thinks and feels about intimacy, he couldn't fault her for not being on the same page as him, thinking they might not be as serious as they were. Really, he figured she probably knew, just wasn't admitting it to herself as a defense mechanism. Self preservation. If they broke up or drifted apart, she could tell herself it had been casual anyway and was never meant to last.

But he meant it to last. He actively worked towards that ending - or rather, non-ending. He'd decided after meeting her at the aquarium that it would be different this time around. He wanted her. He was in love with her. He wasn't giving up easily. But he hadn't told her that for fear that she would spook and leave him. So, really, or at least partially, he was to blame for her confusion. If he'd made it clear from the start maybe she would have freaked, but maybe she wouldn't have. Maybe then she would have said those three words back to him.

He shook his head, knowing that wasn't fair. If she wasn't ready, she wasn't ready. He couldn't change their past.

"I didn't mean to freak you out," he said. She put her phone back in her pocket and looked up to him, a crease in her brow. "Telling you last night," he explained. "I just needed you to know it."

She nodded. "It surprised me, is all. It's not that-" She smiled shyly, stopping herself, and sighed a nervous laugh. "I do really like you, Owen. I'm not unhappy about it."

"Good." He smiled softly and stepped back to her, giving her a quick kiss. "Let's get back. My back is starting to hurt."

She agreed and let him move around her to lead the way with the light again.

"Looks like storm clouds are coming in, anyway," she muttered. "That might delay Hoskins."

"He'll be here," Owen said knowingly. "It'd have to be a hurricane to keep InGen away after last night."

"Can I work in your office? I think I should be here when he gets here. Also, people are talking about how I was over at your place last night...I don't really want to deal with them today."

He chuckled. "I get it. Yeah, you can stay."

"Owen," she said.

"Yeah?"

"Come to your office with me when we get out of here."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

...

She wanted to make out. That's why she wanted him to come with her. He smiled against her lips as she reached behind her to lock the office door. She was awesome.

"Marry me," he laughed.

She smiled. "You haven't said that in a while," she mused.

"Yeah, well," he said, kissing her again as she stood on her toes to reach her mouth. "I didn't want to be like the boy who cried wolf, you know, now that we're together. I don't want to say it for real one day and you think that I'm joking."

She pulled back and stared at him, wide-eyed. Maybe he shouldn't have said that.

"You've been..." she trailed off. "You think about that?"

He could feel the jump start of his heart, suddenly nervous he'd said too much. Was this it? Was she going to run? His grip on her waist and back tightened a little.

"You seriously underestimate how into you I am," he said, hoping his smile looked relaxed and his tone was teasing enough.

She hesitated for a second before leaning in to kiss him again. She peppered quick kisses to his lips, her fingers running through the hair at his neck. "When you say it with a ring I'll know it's real," she whispered.

"That's a good point." He pulled her closer and lifted her a few inches from the ground, turning them and walking over to his desk to hold her against it. He felt ecstatic. She hadn't run away.

...

Claire worked at the paddock for most of the afternoon, sitting in Owen's office with her phone almost permanently glued to her ear. Owen hadn't minded. He left her alone mostly, only needing to run into the room sporadically through the day. Her presence came in handy when Hoskins rolled up and started pissing Owen off with his brushing off the seriousness of the previous night's events.

"They grabbed rocks and through them at the lock until it broke," Owen said as they stood again around the open storm drain.

Hoskins whistled. "They're wicked smart, aren't they?" he said, impressed. "That intelligence is what makes them so valuable." Owen shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, fuming. "Imagine them in the field. They're going to save so many lives."

"They're going to kill people," Owen snapped. "They aren't going to follow your orders, Hoskins."

He shook his head. "Not mine. Yours." He pointed a finger into his chest. "And if it's not you, Grady, it'll just be someone else."

"You realize people were critically injured last night?" Claire interjected. "Two guys were medevaced to San Jose this morning. They might not pull through."

"And that happened with me there, yelling out commands for them to stop," Owen said. It was a minor stretch of the truth.

"It's not going to be this pack," Hoskins agreed. "Look, I've thought over what you've been saying; we need to learn what we can from them before we start a second generation. It's the smart play. The suits above me aren't fully convinced, but I'm doing what I can with them. But the next gen, or the one after that...that's the goal."

"They're too smart for it," Owen said, shaking his head.

"We want them to be smart. We need them to be. Your raptors are the first step to completely reinventing the battlefield. They will save lives," he said firmly. "You're a military man. I know you get it." Hoskins looked to Claire. "You can tell Masrani I'm trying to get the InGen board to drop the suit. Our companies have a good history together. We shouldn't be burning the bridges we've built."

...

Back in his office, after Hoskins left for his hotel room, Claire was pacing in agitation as Owen sat slumped at his desk.

"He's smug," she spat.

"Yep," Owen agreed.

"They've probably already stopped pursuing legal action, if they ever began. They probably realized no one else will let them grow raptors on their land."

He nodded. "That's entirely possible."

She sighed heavily and leaned against a filing cabinet. "I don't like him."

"I'm not confident anyone does."

...

"I won't say it if it makes you uncomfortable," he told her later that night as they laid in bed together. It was dark and they hadn't spoken in a few minutes. She might have even fallen asleep.

He knew the weight of those words; mostly because once he'd told her he felt it lift off his chest, but he hadn't meant to push it onto her. He didn't want her to ever feel pressured into returning the sentiment.

The bed shifted as she moved. She slid her body over his and kissed him, long, slow, and languid. "You're sweet," she breathed before kissing him again.

She reached for his hands and linked them with hers, dragging them up next to his head. Her lips moved to his neck and bare chest. Her breasts, covered in the silk sleep shirt she wore, and her hips moved against him suggestively. His body reacted accordingly. Releasing his hands, she sat up and removed the shirt before leaning back down to his lips.

Her hand lowered to the elastic hem of his pajamas bottoms, gently tickling his skin as she moved. She peppered kisses over his chest as she lowered herself down the bed. Her breasts dragged along his chest and stomach as her hand pulled down his pants. His breathing hitched as she took him in her hand. She made soft, quick noise - something between a sigh and a laugh - that let him know she was smiling as he felt her pull the comforter over her head, up to his upper abdomen.

He groaned suddenly as she wrapped her lips around his head. It made the both of them chuckle, hers vibrating around his member.

She licked and sucked and bobbed and eventually brought her hands up to join in. He was panting as the pleasure slowly built. Her hot mouth, her tongue like fire brought him so close. Her massaging hands made everything better. Normally, he liked watching her do this. He got off on it. It turned him on seeing with her lips around him. Now, not only was it dark in the room, but what little light might have let him see her was useless as she hid beneath the blankets. It hardly hurt his enjoyment. If anything, not being able to see her made it more erotic. His sense of touch became hyper sensitive as all other senses became useless to him.

His hands clutched the pillow under his head as he neared his end, gasping. "Claire," he said, warning. He repeated her name when she didn't pulled away. After a few more tugs from her lips, he lost himself within her, stifling his moans with his arm over his mouth. He choked on his breath as he felt her swallowing around him. It was a new sensation that prolonged his orgasm by a few glorious seconds.

He was still gasping for air as she pulled the covers back and crawled up to lay beside him. Her hands traced a nondescript pattern over his heaving chest. Soon enough he was able to roll to his side and pull her against him. His hand roamed her back as his mouth greedily latched onto her neck and reached down to her breasts. He slid his hand over the curve of her ass and then over her hip, sliding gently between her legs.

"No," she said, grabbing his wrist. "It's fine."

He lifted his head slightly, trying to see her face in the almost total darkness. "Why not?"

She pushed herself harder against his body and kissed him briefly. "It was for you."

"I'm trying to return the favor," he said.

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

"Not tonight," she whispered. "I only wanted to do that for you."

He brought his hand up and rested it on her cheek. He kissed her again, his lips hard against hers to convey his thanks and his love. He reached down and pulled his pajamas back up. She didn't reach for her shirt, instead she inched closer to his side, wrapping an arm around his waist. He decided falling asleep next to her with her bare chest pressed against him was easily best way to sleep.

* * *

 **So we're nearing the end and I just want to say thanks again to everyone who's been reading this and cheering me on. I've loved writing this story and I can't wait to share my conclusion with you all!**

 **I've been trying to come up with another story to write for this pairing -because I LOVE writing these two crazy kids. I have a funky idea in mind that I'm not sure will work on paper though, so I'd love to hear suggestions from you! Any concept, scenario, or general feel of a story you've wanted to read? I'm in need of a muse! Let me know in either a review or PM!**


	23. Chapter 23

**I love you all!**

* * *

He knew the raptors getting out had affected her more than she would let on, or more than she would talk about anyway. They hadn't stayed at his trailer together since that night.

The storm drain had been welded shut and a large mesh grate was attached to the end of the concrete tubing to prevent birds or other wildlife from making a home in there and causing the girls to go berserk trying to kill it. The girls had been fine, for the most part. Echo had a bit of a limp for a while and Charlie seemed a little nervous and jumpy for a few days. Delta acted like her normal bitchy self, of course. But Blue was a bit of challenge. Owen had a feeling she knew _he_ had been the one to zap her when she had been about to kill the trooper. She was difficult and hostile during training and when she was locked in her pin, she hissed at him constantly. He'd taken up the habit of sitting by her pin and reading aloud to her whatever random articles he could find online to get her comfortable around him again. It was working, he thought - slowly, but still.

A couple of weeks after the Great Escape, Claire called to tell him that they were going to get seven live chickens once a week until they finalized farming them on the island. She acted like it was a present for him, but Owen knew it was more about her hope that the raptors would stay stimulated with the distractions.

The chickens had baffled the girls initially. Owen had videoed the hilarity of it to show Claire. The first chicken thrown in with them clucked fearfully while the girls jerked and scattered about, curious with the creature before them. Charlie had tripped over herself, spooked when the chicken flapped its wings suddenly. Then, feeling safe he supposed, the chicken started bobbing its way over to the tree line. Delta had silently walked up behind it and nudged it with the back of her front claw. The bird had screamed in fright and started running and flapping, frantic to get away. Blue pounced a moment later and killed it with a swift bite.

Claire also had IT create a cell phone app "for all paddocks," she had insisted, that allowed the lead handlers to track their animals using their implants much in the same way they were tracked in Control. She stood by Owen while they installed it on his phone, all while fiddling with her own version which showed every animal on the island.

"This will be so useful," she said. "Especially for the Valley and Northern Plains. There are so many assets in that area."

Owen nodded as he took his phone back from the woman who installed the app and showed him how to use it.

"How are your raptors doing?" Claire asked curiously, glancing over his shoulder.

"Good," he said. "They're hanging out in the clearing, looks like." He glanced at his watch. "They'll get to chase a pig soon."

"Good," she said lightly.

He followed her back to her office and stood quietly, trying to find the right words while she checked something on her computer.

"It's nearly lunchtime," she said off-handedly. "Did you want to eat together?"

He smirked, loving how increasingly casual she was coming with their relationship. "Yeah," he said. "But first, I want to talk to you about something."

She eyed him warily as he walked around her desk to her side. He held out his hands and she took them as he helped pull her to stand in front of him. He brought one of his hands to her cheek.

"You're beautiful," he muttered. Her guarded expression relaxed at his words. "You know how much I care about you." She nodded even though it wasn't phrased as a question. "I don't want you to be afraid."

Confusion clouded her gaze. "Afraid of what?"

"Anything," he answered with a shrug.

"I'm not," she said firmly, her defenses rising.

He tried to keep the patronizing look off his face. "I think you've been a little...I don't know...not jumpy, but uneasy, I guess, since the raptors got out."

"Owen, people nearly _died_. I have two ACU guards that can't work again," she said. "And beyond the tragedy of it all, speaking with the business in mind, the worker's compensation with that sort of thing is a nightmare with finances and litigation. It's my responsibility to make sure things like that don't happen." He put his hands on her arms, wanting to calm her as she heatedly made her case. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. "I know it's not directly my fault, but I'm the one that has to fix these sorts of things. I have to be on top of it. I have to show progress. I'm not sure what part of that makes you think that I'm afraid, but I'm not."

He nodded. "Okay. Then how about we stay at my place tonight?" He caught sight of her sudden trepidation. "See?" he asked pointedly. "Look, we can stay at your apartment. I don't care where we sleep. I just don't want you to feel like you can't trust me to keep you safe."

She regarded him carefully, almost like she was trying to figure out what to say, or how to interpret his words. "I don't like needing you."

It stung at first, but he knew what she was saying. She hated showing weakness. It had been such an important factor in their relationship this whole time.

"I know," he said. "But I wish you weren't so opposed to it."

"Owen, I-"

"It's okay," he assured her with a smile. "I just mean that I know how much I need you." She kissed him lightly, and he knew it was because she didn't know what to say. "Dearing, I just need you to know that I'd die before I let something happen to you."

"Well," she said after a moment, her hands coming up to wrap around his neck and her humor creeping in to combat the emotional tones. "I simply won't allow that." She was smiling sweetly.

"How would you stop me?" he asked, chuckling a little.

She shrugged. "I'd knock you unconscious and then run in to save the day."

"Not in those ridiculous shoes, you aren't," he replied with a snort.

"I'm full of surprises, Grady," she said wistfully.

...

Eventually, they started spending the majority of their nights at her place again. She had a bigger kitchen, an actual living area, a bathroom that they could actually move around in, and a far more comfortable bed. It made sense. After they'd talked in her office about his speculation that she was afraid to stay at his place because of the raptors, she made more of an effort to keep their time evenly split between their two homes. But a month and a half went by and they made the natural progression to staying where there was more space. He missed his bungalow sometimes and occasionally stayed there on his own, but overall he didn't mind staying with her. It was definitely easier to cook a nice breakfast for them in her kitchen than in his own.

He hadn't moved in. He didn't even have a key to let himself in if she wasn't around. But they were taking baby steps in that direction.

During one of the times she'd stayed at his bungalow, he had noticed, after she had left, that she forgot to pack her toothbrush back up. He texted her a picture of it.

 **Forget something?**

 **Shit. Sorry. I guess I'll stay with you again tonight and pack it in the morning.**

 **Sure** , he replied. **Or you could leave it here and get a new one for your place.**

He waited the predictably longer amount of time in between texts before she replied. He'd become far less nervous of her pulling away from him. She seemed as invested as he was, she just handled things a little differently.

 **Ok.**

He smiled, almost laughing.

 **I mean, it's taking up a TON of space in this tiny bathroom. And it's an awful shade of purple. But I'll make the sacrifice.**

 **Shut up.**

...

It was a couple weeks after they made the leap of leaving toothbrushes in each other's bathrooms that he realized he was missing a lot of clothes. Like a lot. Like what the hell happened to all his underwear and pants?

"I don't think I can come over tonight," he said when we called her.

" _Oh. Why not?_ " At least she sounded disappointed.

"Apparently I need to do laundry. I can't find a damn thing!" he said, frustrated as he looked under his bed for dirty clothes.

She guffawed a quick laugh. " _Owen_ ," she said patronizingly. " _Seriously?_ "

"Seriously!" he insisted. "I looked in my drawer and had no underwear. None. And one sock. Not even a pair, just one loose sock."

" _I have them_ ," she said, still laughing.

"How do you have them?

" _I've been sending your laundry out with mine,"_ she explained. " _I swear I told you that._ "

"No," he denied vehemently, smiling in relief. He thought he was starting to lose his mind. "I would've definitely remembered that."

" _I swear_ ," she insisted. " _I texted you. I know I did._ "

"Oh my God, Dearing," he groaned. "Alright. Well, I'll head over there now. I have to bring some back here, you know. I can't have just _one_ sock here."

When he arrived at her place, she showed him a drawer in the nightstand by his side of the bed that had his boxers and socks neatly tucked away. She led him to her walk-in closet, where, on a rack near the back wall, his pants and shirts were hanging.

"You never texted me," he said again.

"I did!" she said, grabbing her phone and sitting on the bed, looking through her messages for proof. He shook his head, knowing she wasn't going to find anything because that was definitely a conversation he would remember having, and went to wash up in her bathroom.

"Oh my God," she gasped. "Oh my God!" she groaned.

He looked out and saw her sitting with her head in her hands. "What?"

"I sent it to Zara!" she said, looking up at him.

He laughed and walked over to see the evidence.

 **You know you've been leaving your clothes here, right? I'm having them cleaned today with mine. You're welcome.**

"And she didn't say anything?" he asked, laughing.

"No. Well, obviously I sent it to the wrong person. She must have just ignored it."

He sat on the bed next to her. "Wow, Claire Dearing was wrong." She shoved his shoulder and he chuckled. "Kind of makes you question everything you thought you knew."

She hummed a quiet laugh and leaned into him. "I'm sorry," she said sadly. "I really thought I had told you."

"I know," he said. "It's a nice surprise, at least. Clean clothes, a drawer, some closet space...it's starting to feel like you actually want me around, Dearing."

"You've worn me down," she said with a smirk and a peck on his lips.

But he still didn't have a key.

...

"You gotta let me do this," he insisted, speaking to Charlie as she hissed and jerked, locked inside her head pin. A few days before they had noticed she had some nasty looking goo leaking from her eye and Angie had prescribed some medicated drops to help with the infection. Charlie wasn't exactly pleased to have him squirting stuff into her eye, though. "Come on, girl," he muttered as he tried once more to keep her still and her eye open.

He looked up and smiled when saw Claire two pins down, petting Echo through the bars of the pin. Her lips lifted slightly at the corners as Echo let out a satisfied groan at the attention.

"She likes you," he said.

"She is the sweet one, right?"

Owen nodded then lifted his hand to indicate Blue. "You should try talking to her. Maybe you can get her to shut up," he grumbled. Blue was chattering angrily between Echo and Charlie.

Claire edged closer to Blue. "Hi, Blue," she said softly. Owen watched, letting Charlie have a break. "Are you going to try to bite me if I touch you?"

"She can't," he assured her.

"I know, but that doesn't mean she doesn't want to." Claire raised a hand slowly to the raptors snout, letting her sniff and huff before lightly stroking along her jowls. "It's okay. It's okay," she tried to soothe as Blue rattled in the cage. Claire looked to Owen, nervous.

Owen sighed and shook his head, looking back down to Charlie who had finally calmed down. "Alright, Charlie, we're doing this. There's no way around it." She hissed as he lifted his hand to her head, holding her steady.

"You don't like me much, do you?" He listened to Claire as he fought with Charlie. "Is it because I get so much attention from your alpha? Are you jealous?" she cooed, her voice teasing. Owen smirked but noticed Blue was calming.

"Yes!" he said triumphantly as he managed to get a drop in Charlie's eye. "Ha ha! Alright. See? That wasn't so bad. Don't put up so much of a fight next time and we can get it over with sooner."

He put the small bottle of medicine in his pocket and wiped his hands on a towel he had throw over his shoulder. He cleaned up the spilled medication from Charlie's face, too. Stepping back from the raptor, he came to stand next to Claire who was still petting Blue in a slow and steady pace.

"You're getting pretty good with them," he said softly to her.

Claire smiled shyly and turn her head to him. He saw her glance shift to his lips momentarily before turning back to Blue. His grin widened. He loved this woman.

"They're important to you," she said as way of explanation.

He chuckled and brought his hand to her back, rubbing it gently. Blue hissed loudly, apparently not fond of the display.

"Oh, shut up," Owen snapped.

Claire laughed. "I told you she was jealous."

"Don't be so petty," he told Blue. "Come on, lets go get lunch." He led Claire towards the gate.

They were nearly to her car when a Jeep pulled up to the paddock and the passenger jumped out excitedly.

"Owen!" she called happily.

He gaped. "Stacy?" he breathed as the woman jogged to him. She flung her arms around his neck and he hugged her back tightly. "When did you get back?"

"I'm not back," she told him as they pulled away marginally. "I'm on leave. I'm only here for a couple of days."

He hugged her again and kissed the side of her head. "You're okay?"

She nodded against him. "I'm fine." She pulled away again. "Well, not fine. It's terrible over there. But I'm better off than some." Owen understood. Combat was hardly an easy thing to deal with, even after leaving it behind.

"Barry picked me up at the docks," she said. He finally noticed Barry standing behind her. Stacy glanced over his shoulder and he remembered Claire. "He filled me in on some gossip."

"Right, uh." He turned back to Claire. "Did you two ever meet? Claire this is Stacy. Stacy, Claire."

"Hi," Stacy greeted kindly, holding out a hand to her. "I used to work here in engineering."

Claire smiled and Owen almost couldn't tell it was forced. "Oh, yes, hi. It's nice to meet you."

"So, are you free for lunch?" Stacy asked Owen. "I've been _dying_ to have Sunrio's empandadas."

He hesitated. "Well, actually..." He looked to Claire.

"Go," she said with a small smile. "Catch up."

"You're sure?" he asked.

"Oh, if you guys had plans..." Stacy began, trailing off. "We can meet up another time."

"No, it's fine," Claire insisted. "I have a meeting in an hour anyway." She glanced down at her watch. "I should get back and prepare for it."

"I'll call you later," he promised Claire, grateful to be able to spend time with his friend. He stepped forward to kiss her on the cheek and was surprised when she turn her head to kiss his lips.

"Have fun," she said with a polite smile. "It was nice meeting you," she told Stacy before walking the short distance to her car.

...

"Claire Dearing!" Stacy yelled, laughing as she sat in the back of the Jeep while Barry drove and Owen sat in the passenger seat. "I can't believe it. Of all the women on this island she would be the last one I would have guessed you'd be with."

Owen smiled and shrugged. "What can I say? She likes my devilish charm."

"So how long has it been?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know. A while."

"Wasn't she dating David Browning? What happened to him?"

"He moved to England."

"They were sleeping together before then," Barry commented.

Stacy gasped and Owen clarified. "Not _while_ they were together." He shot a glare over to Barry.

"Owen Grady!" Stacy admonished. "Did he really move away or did you arrange an 'accident' with the girls."

Owen laughed. "No, he really moved away."

"Uh huh. And then you pounced on her when she was vulnerable?"

"She pounced on me, actually," he said lightly. "Like I said, she liked my charm."

"So, is it serious?" she asked as they stepped out of the Jeep after Barry parked it behind the restaurant, hidden from the guests.

Owen nodded. "A bit, yeah."

"Like, you love her serious?" she pried with a smirk.

Owen grinned and winked. "Maybe."

"Have you told her?" she whispered excitedly. Barry was walking in front of them and Owen knew he was pretending not to listen.

"I have," he whispered back, his tone mockingly scandalous.

Stacy gasped. "Aw, Owen." She wrapped her arm through his and squeezed, a walking hug. "Good. I'm happy for you."

...

He stumbled up to Claire's door and knocked heavily.

"I thought you were going to stay at your place," she said when she answered.

"Did I say that?" he asked as he stepped inside.

"No, I just assumed since you were going out."

"Nah," he said, smiling tiredly. "I missed you."

"How much have you had to drink?" she asked warily, leading him into her living room.

"Just a few," he said with a wink, grabbing her arms and pulling her to him, hugging her. "You should have come with me. It was fun."

She struggled against his hold. "Go get ready for bed. I'll bring you water and aspirin."

He walked to her bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, kicking off his shoes. "I think I'm too old to drink this much," he said as she entered the room.

"Might be," she sighed.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No," she said, but even tipsy he could tell she was lying.

"What's wrong? What did I do?" he grabbed her hand, not letting her walk away from him.

"Owen, I'm tired. Can we talk about it later?"

"Are you mad that I was drinking?" he asked confused. She'd never cared before.

She shook her head. "No."

He looked around the room for a clue and noticed her side of the bed was undone. "I woke you up," he realized. "I'm sorry." He pulled her to stand between his legs and hugged her tightly around her waist. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"I wasn't asleep," she said with another sigh.

He looked up at her, thinking hard. "Are you mad I was out with Stacy again?" She didn't answer, but her jaw line twitched and she avoided his gaze.

It was a conversation he didn't want to have unless he was sober. So, deciding they could discuss it in the morning, he stood and held her face as he kissed her, then told her he was going to shower before coming to bed.

Later, when he slid under the sheets, quietly in case she was already asleep, he sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, sobering up with each passing minute. She was jealous, he realized. He should have recognized it earlier but he got caught up in Stacy's surprise appearance.

"I know you don't say it," she began, nearly making him jump as he thought she was sleeping, "because you don't want me to be uncomfortable...but sometimes I want to hear it."

He was silent as he mulled over her words. His alcohol-logged brain working slower than normal. "I love you?" he asked, taking an educated guess at what she meant.

She turned to him and wrapped an arm over his chest. He figured that meant he got it right. He smiled as he kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Dearing."

She sighed and he fell asleep soon after.

...

"You know she's just a friend," he said as they ate breakfast the following morning.

He saw her roll her eyes in his peripheral. "She's a bit more than that. You dated her."

"Yeah," he agreed.

"And you've slept with her," she added before he could continue.

"Yeah," he conceded, a bit uneasy.

She stood and carried her empty plate to the sink. "So not _just_ a friend," she concluded. She sighed and turned back to him. "I'm not saying you can't see her. I know she's a friend. But it's just like how you feel about me talking to David. It's just a little weird."

He wiped his mouth with he napkin, stalling. He knew she was right. "Okay," he said, nodding.

"It's worse, actually. David is in another country - another continent. She's on this tiny little island with us."

"I didn't ask her to come here."

"I know," she said, sighing again. "I don't want to fight. I just..."

"I get it," he said. _You're jealous_ , he thought - because he sure as shit wasn't going to say that out loud. "But you trust me, right? You know I'd never do anything with her now."

"It's not you I don't trust," she told him.

"She knows we're together," he insisted. "She knows we're serious."

Claire regarded him carefully. " _You_ told her that?" He nodded. "What did you say?"

"That you're obsessed with me and I love you," he joked. She rolled her eyes. "Hey, it's half true."

She smiled. "Okay."

"She's only here for one more day," he placated. "Then she's back on another continent, too." He hadn't meant to sound so sad.

"You're worried about her," she noticed. He didn't respond. "Okay. I get it. I won't say anything more about it."

He smiled gratefully. "Hey," he said to bring her gaze back to him. "I love you."

She fought a smile and stepped closer to him to place a kiss on his lips.

...

The Saturday after Stacy left, he decided to take Claire out for a special date - just the two of them, all day - to make up for the awkwardness of having been hanging out with his ex earlier in the week.

He started the morning like normal, making breakfast for them. After, she got in the shower and he hopped in with her. He pulled her soapy, slippery body to his and massaged shampoo into her hair. She smiled up at him as she hugged him around his waist. Things got a little more heated when he started letting his hands roam places other than her head.

After their morning rendezvous, he picked out her outfit for the day, not divulging his plans so as to keep them a surprise. He found a pair of shorts and a plain t-shirt tucked away in the back of a drawer he hardly ever saw her open and found some hiking boots in the back corner of her closet.

"I can't believe you even have these," he said, handing them to her. "When have you ever hiked?"

She smirked, not bothered by his jiving. "When I first moved here, I thought I would be more active and outdoorsy. That didn't last long."

He laughed and changed into his own casual outfit. He grabbed a backpack from a top shelf of her closet. It was one of his that he'd brought over full of clothes one evening long ago. He was noticing more and more of his possessions were finding a home in her apartment. He didn't mind it. He packed the bag with waters and sandwiches.

He drove her in her Mercedes through the back roads, stopping at a small office base in the Valley for supplies, not letting her know what he was grabbing.

"Does Abrams know we're here?" she asked curiously when he got back in the car. "And pilfering things from her stock?"

"She knows," he assured her, speaking of the lead handler for the herbivores in the Valley. "I spoke to her yesterday."

Claire nodded and remained silent as he continued driving on the increasingly rougher roads.

"Where are we?" she spoke up when he pulled off the road and cut the engine. He grabbed the backpack and bag of supplies from the trunk. She offered to carry the backpack.

There wasn't a single animal in sight, not a soul around. It was hot out and humid, but there was a warm breeze that felt great against his skin. Large, white clouds moved swiftly through the blue sky. It was a beautiful day, he decided.

"Come on," he said, ignoring her question but holding a hand out for her to take.

They climbed a small hill and reached a grouping of tall trees. On the other side of the hill were a few triceratops and ankylosaurs. She gasped when she first saw them.

"They're fine," he said. "They won't care about us unless we get close."

He brought her to one tree in particular and rounded the the trunk to see a cage enclosed ladder attached. He looked back and smiled at her, wondering if she was going to fight him on going up.

"You expect me to climb this?" she asked doubtfully.

"I sure do," he said cheerfully. "I'll be right behind you."

"How tall is it?"

"Pretty tall," he deflected, craning his head back to look up the tree. "There's a platform at the top. The view is worth it, I swear."

She sighed and stepped forward. "What if I was afraid of heights?" she asked.

"Are you?"

"No," she admitted. "But I could have been."

He chuckled as she started climbing the rungs, having ducked inside the cage. "I know you're fearless," he teased as he followed after her. "Heights are nothing to the mighty Claire Dearing."

"This is pretty high," she said nervously when they were about half way up.

"Don't think about it," he said. "I'm right behind you. You're fine."

She kept going and, finally, they reached the top. They were both a little out of breath.

"I'm never doing this again," she said, taking a bottle of water out from their bag. "My legs are burning."

He laughed. "Yeah, mine too. Surprisingly tough."

They sat down on the platform that wrapped around the trunk, their legs hanging off the side and arms resting on the lower portion of he railing.

"This is a nice view, though," she admitted, looking around.

To their left they could see the hazy horizon off the ocean and to their right were the tall mountains, a waterfall falling between them. In front of them was a long view of the Valley with many herbivores littered throughout.

"This is the most unusual spot that I have ever picnicked," she said, smiling at him and reaching in their bag for the sandwiches.

"That's not all we're doing up here."

"Oh?" she said curiously. She looked around them. "I'm not having sex up here."

He laughed, shaking his head. "That would be fun though," he said cheekily. "Not everyone can say they've done it up a tree - 'specially not one this tall."

When they finished their lunches, Owen reached into the bag he'd gotten from the Valley's office and pulled out a short, round, wooden horn.

"Ready?" he asked her, excited. She was watching him with expectant amusement. He blew the horn and it sounded like a congested elephant.

Claire gasped, recognizing the noise. He blew it again and she began looking around. Soon, from the trees to their right, an apatosaurus came bumbling over to them. Its slow, graceful steps causing small rumbles on the platform.

Owen grabbed a chart from inside the bag. There was a physical description of each apatosaur, detailing unique markings, scars, or other injuries.

"Alright," Owen said after a moment. "I think this one is Lenny." He put the chart back in the bag and took out the long leaves he'd packed up at the office. The staff harvested a small stock pile for moments like these - usually they were doing visual examinations and vet check ups. "Come here, Lenny," he called, waving a large leaf out through the railing.

"Oh my God," Claire breathed as the dinosaur came to them.

The platform was slightly shorter than the apatosaur's head so without having to get much closer than the edge of the small tree cluster they were in, she was able to stretch out her neck and grab the edge of the leaf, ripping off pieces to chew.

"That's a good girl," Owen praised. With his free hand, he grabbed another leaf and handed it to Claire.

Lenny tugged the stem free from Owen's hand and slowly edged closer to reach the one Claire was holding out for her.

Claire gasped and laughed as Lenny pulled off pieces. "We have to get a picture of this for Grey," she said. "He'd love this."

Owen quickly pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of Claire feeding the apatosaurus. Lenny took a another step closer, more confident in the food being offered to her.

Another apatosaurus came from the trees, curious. This one was much smaller than Lenny and had to rear up on its hind legs to reach Owen's proffered leaf. Claire flicked through the chart to find its name.

"Hey. _Hey!_ " Owen called, laughing at Lenny who sniffed and licked his boot, impatient for more leaves.

"I think the little one is named Stevie," Claire said. "Or...Maggie?"

Owen took a look at the chart and read the description under each name. "We'll go with Stevie," he agreed.

"Hi, Stevie," Claire greeted, grabbing another leaf and reaching down to give it to the the smaller dinosaur.

Eventually, they ran out of leaves, but Lenny didn't buy it at first. She reached her head inside the railing of the platform and nudged the bag with her nose until Owen swatted her away. She and Stevie moved on to the other trees around them, tearing off the leaves and chewing slowly.

Claire was smiling as she watched them. "This might be the most amazing thing I've ever done on this island."

He smiled. "What about petting my raptors?"

"These guys don't try to eat me," she said. "Have you done this before?" He shook his head. "How'd you know about the view, then?"

"Abrams showed me pictures a while back."

Claire leaned into his side and he put his arm around her back. "Thank you," she said. "This was fun."

"Good." He swooped down and kissed her quickly. "I'm glad you liked it."

"I have something for you," she said suddenly, sitting back up and reaching for the backpack next to her.

Whatever it was, she had hidden in in the front pocket of the pack, and it was small enough to fit in her hand, entirely enclosed. She seemed to hesitate before smiling and opening her palm to show him.

At first he didn't know what is was. He recognized the cartoonish shape of a dinosaur - a green raptor - and then saw that the tail had jagged cuts in the metal.

A key.

The coolest freaking key he'd ever seen.

The mouth of the raptor was opened slightly and the key ring was positioned between some of the teeth.

"Is this...to your apartment?" he asked, smiling.

She nodded. "I figured it was time. You're there all the time anyway."

He laughed happily, more excited than he cared to admit. He put his arm back around her shoulders and hugged her. "Thanks, Dearing." He took his keys out of his pocket and hooked the ring on another loop. "I love that it's a raptor."

She chuckled softly. "I thought you might." She placed a kiss on his neck, moving closer to him.

"And I wanted to say thank you," she began. He could hear her trepidation and nerves. "I know I'm not the easiest person to be with. But you've never pressured me or gotten mad for not moving at the same pace as you. And that means a lot to me. So...thanks."

He smiled and kissed her. "Of course, Dearing."

"I love you," she declared, her eyes wide but insistent.

His tongue suddenly felt very heavy. His brows rose slightly in surprise. It felt like his heart had stopped.

"Yeah?" he asked, an embarrassingly large smile forming on his lips. "You love me?"

She visibly swallowed and nodded, softly smiling. "Yeah, I do."

"Say it again," he requested quietly.

She grinned and kissed him, holding his cheek. "I love you."

He kissed her back. "I love you, too."

* * *

 **The End**

 **Stay tuned for the epilogue.**


	24. Epilogue

_Two years ago..._

Claire Dearing smoothed down her hair as she looked at her dull, matte reflection in the elevator doors. She adjusted the cap sleeves of her dark blue dress over her shoulders, wondering if it was maybe a little too tight to be professional. The neckline was modest at least, she bargained with herself. Besides, while technically the event she was headed to was a work function, it was still a party. Mr. Masrani had alway suggested she let loose a little and have fun.

The elevator doors opened and she stepped out into the large restaurant on the top floor of the Hilton. Music and loud chatter immediately greeted her ears.

"Miss Dearing," Zara greeted, meeting up with her quickly. "Here are the notes for your speech. And here's a glass of champagne." Claire smiled kindly to her assistant - her life-saver it sometimes seemed. "You look wonderful, by the way. That color looks lovely on you."

"Thank you," she responded kindly. "Have you seen if Mr. Masrani has arrived yet?"

"He has," Zara answered. "He's talking with some investors over there." She discretely pointed to Claire's left, where, in front of the large, floor-to-ceiling, panoramic windows, her boss was standing in a small group, laughing and schmoozing as he did so well.

"How long until my speech?"

"Twenty minutes," Zara said. "Did you want to run through it with me?"

Claire shook her head. "No, that's alright. I'm going to say hi to Dr. Wu," she said, noticing the geneticist a few yards away. "Go enjoy yourself, Zara." She glanced at her watch. "You are officially off the clock."

Zara smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Miss Dearing. Good luck with your speech."

At this point in her career Claire was fairly accustomed to public speaking. There had been a time, early on, when she'd get so nervous she thought she might vomit. Thankfully she no longer had that problem. Her speech that evening highlighted the many efforts made by Masrani Global for wildlife preservation. She discussed their successes on the island and the works done on preserving land in Africa and Asia. She moved on to thank many of the companies and private individuals represented in the room who had made significant contributions to Masrani's philanthropic foundation. Finally, she introduced the man in charge, Simon Masrani. There was a polite and appropriately appreciative applause as he took the stage to thank Claire and make a speech of his own.

Dinner was served and more drinks were poured, and even more drinks were ordered from the open bar.

"How are we doing so far?" she asked the employees set up at a table near the elevator entrance. They were there to take donations from the guests as they the night went on.

"Wait," someone insisted, coming up to the table from behind her. "Add twenty." She looked up and saw Owen Grady, the childish, annoyingly handsome, and stupidly cocky raptor trainer. He handed over a twenty dollar bill, smiling and winking at Claire.

"Okay," one of the employees said. "With that twenty, we are at one hundred, twenty nine thousand, five hundred, twenty."

"Holy shit," he muttered, impressed. "Well, happy to help!" He smiled again and raise his glass to toast the amount before leaving the table.

Claire sighed and fought a smile at his antics. "Wonderful. Hopefully we'll meet Mr. Masrani's goal of half a million. Let me know if we reach that mark before the night is over."

She left the table and chatted with a handful of guests before sitting back at her chair to nibble some more at her salad.

"Hey." Owen sat in the chair next to her and Claire raised a brow. "I saw your glass was a little low." He placed another flute of champagne in front of her, along with a short glass with clear liquid and ice inside. "There's something a little stronger, if you'd prefer."

"You didn't spike these, did you?" she asked warily.

He chuckled. "No. Believe it or not, I'm not that much of a dick." She pursed her lips before grabbing the champagne and taking a tentative sip. "I know you might find that hard to believe, given our history."

She held back a grimace. "I'd hardly call it a _history_."

He shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah, maybe not." He took a sip from his own glass. "Your speech was good. I didn't know Masrani had that much going on in Africa."

She nodded. "He loves the environment. And all animals," she said, somewhat dryly.

"Even the formally extinct ones," he added, smirking at her. She avoided his stare and took another sip of her champagne. "Well, look, I came over here to apologize," he said, "for...you know...that God-awful date we went on." He laughed and she smiled appreciatively. "Looking back, I probably could have done some things differently."

"You're not trying to get a second chance, are you?" she wondered, dubious.

He laughed. "No! No, believe me, I know that bridge has burned." She relaxed and widened her smile marginally. "It'll be the greatest regret of my life," he said teasingly, "but I know that was my one and only shot."

She chuckled and played with the condensation on the short glass he's given her. "Well, so long as you realize that..."

"It's good, you know," he said encouragingly, nodding towards the glass. "You should try it."

Hesitantly, she raised the glass to her lips, praying she wouldn't live to regret it. The liquid burned a little going down and was far too strong for her liking.

"Oh, that's awful," she sputtered. "What is it?"

"Shitty vodka and club soda," he laughed, drinking more of his own. "It gets better the more you drink."

She laughed. "Most alcohol does."

"So how have you been in the - what's it been, three months, since I've seen you last?"

She nodding, thinking that sounded about right. "I've been well. And yourself?"

"Pretty good," he admitted. "You should come by to see the raptors. They're really getting good at listening to the commands."

"I'll consider it," she said evasively, not wanting to commit. "I've been very busy, lately, though."

"Yeah? What's going on that's got you so busy you can't come see me and my girls?" he asked flirtatiously. He'd always been irritatingly good at flirting.

"We're trying to come up with a way to keep the assets in their areas without having to build all new fences every time we expand their habitats," she said. "And the engineers keep fighting with our IT techs about the tracking implants." She took another sip of the vodka mix. "They argue like children."

He chuckled. "Okay, and? That can't be all."

"Guest attendance has been our lowest for this season," she continued. "And some of the restaurant vendors are threatening to leave because they aren't making enough money. Which means I have to come up with a why to either get attendance back up, or see if we can afford to lower or cover some of their expenses." She took another drink. "Because having the vendors back out looks bad."

Owen nodded, his brows raised as he eyed the steadily emptying glass. He smirked. "I bet," he said vaguely.

"And Mr. Masrani," she began, glancing around to make sure her boss wasn't in sight. She leaned closer to Owen and he did the same. "He keeps telling me I need to have a way of gauging the assets enjoyment - if their _happy_."

Owen smiled. "This is good," he insisted. "I like this. This is healthy for you. Let's talk this out." He raised his arm and signaled for a server to come by their table. "I can help you with this, but we need more drinks first."

Claire shook her head. "No. No, I shouldn't."

"Oh, come on, Dearing," he urged, smiling cheekily. "Let loose a little."

It was the same words Masrani had spoken to her time and time again. Maybe she should. Maybe just this once, she could relax a bit and enjoy herself.

She sighed, deliberating. "Yeah, okay. One more drink."

"That's it!" he said happily, ordering refills from the server who approached them.

After an hour of talking with Owen, lightly griping about the daily pressures she faced, and complaining about the long hours and annoying investors, one of the employees counting donations approached her.

"Ma'am," she said. "We've reached half an million."

Claire gasped loudly. The employee jumped at the uncharacteristic behavior. "Oh, that's great!" She checked her watch. "And with another hour to go. That's amazing! I need to announce this."

She stood and it was only then that she noticed how much the alcohol had affected her. She wobbled slightly and Owen steadied her with a hand on her arm.

"Whoa," he said, laughing. "Are you okay?"

She brushed him off, embarrassed. "Yes, of course. I just stood up too fast," she lied.

Happily, she didn't lose her footing making her way to the stage and she didn't slur her words as she made the exciting proclamation about reaching their goal. She urged for continued donations and thanked the room at large for the support.

"That's great," Owen said as she sat back down next to him. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," she said, pleased.

"We should go celebrate."

She looked at him, confused. "We are."

He shook his head. "No, not here. Let's get away from these stuffy suits and go somewhere with real people."

She cocked her head as she regarded him curiously. "Where?"

"Have you ever been to Sunrio?" She shook her head. "They've got great drinks. Much better than the shit they're serving here. And you can bitch about anyone you want without having to worry about people overhearing you."

She smiled at his reasoning. "I don't know that I should drink anymore."

"You don't have to," he insisted. "Really. Come on, Dearing, it'll be fun. Let me make up for that shitty date."

"You mean as friends?" she pressed, wanting to make sure he knew this night was to remain platonic.

"Of course. I told you, that bridge burned. I know that." He smiled happily and she felt giddy at his excitement.

"Okay," she consented. "Let's go."

He stood up and held his hand out to her before she could change her mind. She took it and let him pull her to her feet before dropping his hand and following behind him.

...

She laughed loudly as he spilled his drink across the bar.

"Shit," he muttered, laughing with her. "I swear I'm not that drunk."

"Sure," she said doubtfully, taking another sip of the delicious margarita he'd recommended to her when she agreed to just one more drink when they arrived at the bar...that had been two drinks ago.

"I'm not," he said, but his lids were visibly heavy over his eyes as he smiled lazily. "I always remain perfectly sober when in the presence of a lady."

She snorted in a very unladylike manner. "Then clearly you don't think I'm much of lady."

He laughed. "You are. You are. I'm just nervous."

"Why?" she asked curiously.

"Because our date was so fucking bad I thought you were going to fire me. And if I'm bad tonight, I think that'll at least be strike two."

She smiled, taking another sip from the straw. "At least."

"Ha!" he laughed dryly. "Remember the ducks?"

She burst out laughing, remembering the ducks from their date. "Oh my God, I had forgotten about the ducks! Those fucking ducks!"

"Those fucking ducks," he agreed, taking a fresh drink from the bartender. "They shit all over that boardwalk."

"Oh, they were awful! My shoes were ruined."

"Oh, no!" he laughed. "Oh, don't tell me that. Now I feel worse."

"Why on earth would you have picked that restaurant?"

"I heard it was romantic. I was looking to lay on the charm," he defended.

"There was duck shit on our table!"

He laughed. "And the food there was awful!"

"Terrible," she agreed. "The wine wasn't bad, though."

"There's the silver lining, I guess." He took a great gulp from his glass. She sipped more from her own. "Damn, that night sucked."

She nodded. "You tried, though." She thought for a moment before wincing. "Not very hard. But you tried."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he chuckled.

"You wore board shorts!"

"Hey! Those board shorts-"

But what they were she couldn't remember. She blacked out and the next thing she remembered was waking up naked, in his trailer, with his very naked body next to hers. She remembered the stench of alcohol, sweat, and sex. She remembered the panic and shame. She remembered rushing to find her clothes. She remembered telling him it was never going to happen again.

...

Claire stood in her office, her mind wandering as she looked out the tall but slim window by her desk. Two years had been passed since they'd drunkenly fell into bed together, and now, there she stood, in love with the man. Life could be funny sometimes.

She glanced at the wall to her right where there was a small indent in the drywall. He'd once stood in this office with her and told her he couldn't be friends with her while she was dating another man - because he wanted to be with her. She'd pushed him away then, protecting herself, believing she was protecting him too. He left her office and as she crumbled into her chair, tears pouring down her face, she picked up the small paper weight on her desk and chucked it in frustration against the wall. She should have known then, or at least admitted to herself, that she wanted to be with him more than David. She had never gotten so worked up over something David had said or done.

Owen was a good man. A great man. He loved her and cared for her. He always put her happiness above his own. She was lucky to have him.

And the _sex_ \- dear God, the _sex!_ If sex alone was the prerequisite for falling in love, she would have fallen a lot sooner. She remembered how fascinating she had found the love bite he left on her inner thigh after their drunk escapade. She had tried desperately hard to remember what his mouth had felt like on her. She never admitted that to him, and she only ever allowed herself to do so in her dark and lonely bedroom on the rare occasion.

It had taken a long time for her to give in to the temptation that was Owen Grady. He'd been texting her, teasing her, begging her for months, and, secretly, she loved it. His attention made her laugh and smile. He was funny. It only made him more attractive. She'd never told him how much she enjoyed it. Then he stopped, claiming in his ever so charming and humorous way that he needed to move on. It wasn't long before she missed his messages.

When she finally gave in - when she finally got the nerve to drive to his trailer after another uneventful date and sleep with him while almost completely sober - she was in awe with him. She had a dangerous thought that night. She worried she'd never be fucked so satisfyingly again; that Owen fucking Grady was going to be the best sex of her life.

She tried to forget about the sex. She tried to feel ashamed and disgusted with herself. She tried to move on. But then he started texting her again and she reveled in the attention. She thought that maybe he'd enjoyed himself just as much as she did. Maybe the mindless sex had been _more_ than just mindless sex to him, too.

The memory of his body and skill drove her crazy. It made her do wanton and silly things like send him suggestive pictures and drive to his office for a quickie. Even still, all this time later, she was doing things with him she'd never thought she'd do. She smiled, thinking of the Kama Sutra book she'd given him as a joke this last Christmas. They were steadily making their way through the ridiculous and sometimes painfully awkward positions.

Thinking of Christmas, she looked down at her right wrist and touched the thin chain around it. There was a small, raptor-shaped charm on it. He'd had it made for her. She also received a pair of horribly tacky raptor-shaped earrings, a raptor stuffed animal, a remote control raptor, and an adorable, if not obnoxiously large picture of Owen, standing in the paddock with three of the four raptors visible and climbing up his body. The girls had only been two months old at the time. Blue was clutching his shoulder and chest, stretching her snout out to sniff at Owen's face; Delta was on his right side near his hip, gnawing on his belt; and Charlie was in his left hand, his arm stretched out away from his body to keep her at bay. She was struggling to crawl along his arm; her small claws digging into his skin. He told her Echo was on his back and that about four seconds after this picture was taken, she had chomped down on his ass.

He'd gone a little overboard with the gag gift theme they'd decided on, but she did actually really like the bracelet. She wore it nearly every day.

He really was very sweet. He always had been. Even on their disastrous first date he'd tried to make her laugh and ease the tension, but she hadn't made it easy for him. She never did. She berated herself for how awful she'd been to him, even now, even the night before. He was impossibly good to her and she was always so damn difficult. She wasn't sure what exactly had happened in her life to make her this way, but she wasn't proud of it.

There was a knock on her office door which pulled her from her self-deprecating thoughts. Zara poked her head in and smiled politely.

"I have some reports from the lab for you," she said. "And Mr. Grady called to request a lunch with you."

"He called you?" she asked confused.

Zara nodded. "He said he couldn't get through to your cell."

Claire grabbed her phone off her desk and realized that the battery must have died. Had she forgotten to charge it last night? She couldn't remember. The night before had been...hectic.

"Um, yes, I'll meet with him," she said. "Will you call him back and ask him to meet me at home?" She wanted to have some privacy with him.

Zara nodded and blushed slightly. Claire wondering if she was thinking of the last time she'd been at her apartment. Claire had told Owen that Zara would be stopping by that morning. So why he thought it would be okay to walk out of the bedroom wearing only a towel around his waist she had no idea.

"I thought you meant that she was just going to hand you stuff at the door," he had defended, chuckling. "I didn't think she'd be sitting on our couch."

"It doesn't matter," Claire said, fighting a smile and waving him away. "Just go put some clothes on!"

He winked playfully at her assistant before heading back into the bedroom to change. Zara had been embarrassed and flustered, but jokingly told Claire that she'd never been more jealous of her.

"Yes, I'll call let him know," Zara said and handed her the files in her hand. "Dr. Wu said the eggs should hatch in the next couple of days."

"Great," Claire said. "Let's make sure we have someone from the Ark on standby."

Zara nodded and then gasped when Claire closed the file and she spotted the glint on her left hand.

"He proposed?" she asked with a hushed excitement, her eyes lighting up with happiness.

Claire nearly cringed. That was a normal woman's response. That's what she should have done when he showed her the ring.

She nodded and held her hand out to show off the diamond. It was a gorgeous ring - a classic round cut on a simple band. It was wonderfully traditional.

"Congratulations!" Zara said, hugging her suddenly and quickly. "Oh, I can't believe it." She grasped her hand to take a better look at the ring. "It's beautiful."

"Thank you," Claire said shyly. "I, uh, haven't said yes yet..." Zara froze and Claire's uneasiness grew. Why hadn't she said yes?

The night before, after dinner, he'd drawn her a bath. She'd been suspicious of his motives at first, because he'd never done that before. But then he got in with her and she thought maybe he just wanted to try something new. They'd never done it in the bathtub before. And even though they didn't have sex, he did get her off with his hand while kissing her neck and massaging her breasts as he sat with her back against his chest.

When they got out, she had tried to initiate contact with him, kissing his lips and running her hand down to his excited member. But he had stopped her and told her to wait.

"Why?" she asked, putting on her robe as he wrapped a towel around his waist. She followed him into the bedroom and sat at the end of the bed, drying her hair while he shuffled around for something in the closet. When he came back and stood in front of her, shed smiled and reached for the towel around him, but again he stopped her. "I'm trying to return the favor," she laughed, repeating the words he said to her every time she got him off without expecting anything from him.

He smiled. "I don't want you to just yet."

"Then what was that?" she asked, nodding her head in the direction of the bathroom.

"I wanted to butter you up - get you in a good mood."

She was wary now, unsure of what he was going to say next. Then he lowered himself to kneel on one knee and suddenly she couldn't breathe. She felt stiff and her face felt hot.

"Claire," he said with a smile, taking her hand, "breathe." She could barely hear the nerves in his words. She nodded but her lungs wouldn't comply. "I love you," he said softly. He held up his other hand and showed her the ring held between his thumb and index finger. "I don't care where it happens, or when. I don't care if half the world is there or if it's just me and you in a court house somewhere. All I want is to be with you for the rest of my life." He was smiling at her and she realized she was crying. "Marry me, Dearing."

"I-" It came out on a breath, barely audible. She closed her eyes and felt tears leak down her cheeks. Her hand holding his was shaking. She couldn't get a grip. After a short pause he got up from his knee and sat on the bed next to her. She felt his arms wrap around her and she leaned into his chest, trying to steady her heart and breath. She could feel his heart hammering in his chest and felt terrible. She was doing this wrong, she knew. "I need to think," she gasped.

He hesitated. "Okay," he said, rubbing his hands over her arms. "Okay, that's fine. I understand."

She pulled away from his chest and wiped away her tears. A hand remained on her back, rubbing soothing circles. After a moment spent collecting herself, she looked to him and saw his forced smile. She'd disappointed him. Of course she had. What man wanted to hear "I need to think" in response to "Will you marry me?"

"Can I see it?" she asked. She didn't so much care about the ring itself. She just needed a distraction from his sadness.

"Yeah," he laughed. "Of course."

He held out the ring in his palm and she took it. It sparkled brightly even in the low lighting of two nightstand lamps behind her.

"Can I wear it?" she asked, unsure. Maybe he'd want an answer before she put it on.

"Well, yeah. I was hoping you would," he teased. "That was kind of the point."

She laughed, still tearful as she slipped the ring onto her finger. It felt strange and heavy, but it fit.

"Part of me is surprised it's not shaped like a raptor," she joked.

"Oh, believe me, if I didn't think that would hurt my chances that's exactly what you would be getting."

She smiled and hugged him. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said, placing a kiss on her head.

"You know I love you."

"Yeah." She could hear his smile. "I know. I love you, too."

Claire realized Zara was staring at her, clearly unsure of what to say.

"I told him I needed to think about it," Claire said pathetically.

"Oh?" Zara responded softly, concerned. "Do you want to...talk about it?"

Claire shook her head but continued anyway. "He's a good man," she bargained.

"Yes," Zara agreed emphatically. "You've always seemed happy with him."

"I am," Claire insisted. "He's great. He's funny and kind and smart."

"He's wildly attractive," Zara added, laughing.

"He _is_ ," she agreed. "And I've never been with someone like him before."

"Is that the problem?" Zara asked curiously. "Do you think you're just scared because he's different?"

"But he's different in good way," she said. "I've never been so consistently happy. I mean, he makes me so mad sometimes. He does. He leaves his dirty clothes all over the place. His sink in the bathroom always has globs of toothpaste in it. I don't know what's so fucking hard about getting it on the toothbrush."

Zara smiled. "But those are really serious issues."

"No, of course not." Claire rubbed at her forehead and then glanced down at the ring on her finger. "I don't think I could ever hope to do better than him."

When she looked back up to her assistant, she could see tears forming in Zara's eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, smiling and wiping under her lids. "I'm just so happy for you," she laughed. "And him. He's a great guy, Claire. Really. I know I don't know him as well as some but I've never had a bad encounter with him. I think he'll make you very happy. I see how much he loves you."

Claire nodded, thinking. She looked at the time. "Can you call him now and let him know about lunch? I think I'm going to head over there now."

Zara nodded. "Of course."

"And please don't say anything to him about all of this," she pleaded.

"No, I won't," Zara assured her. She gave her another hug, a bit more cautious of the act this time. "Good luck."

...

Claire stood up from the couch when she heard the key and lock slide before Owen walked into the room. He gave her a soft smile when he saw her.

"Hey," he greeted. "You wanted to have lunch here?"

"Yes," she said.

He nodded and started heading towards the kitchen. "Alright. You want a sandwich?"

"No, Owen," she said meaningfully. "I mean, _yes_."

He turned back to her, confused. "Sandwich or no sandwich?"

She smiled patiently and walked around the couch towards him. "I've thought about it," she said softly, slowly. She smiled brighter when she saw the cautious realization dawn on him. "And my answer is yes."

His lips twitched into a smile. "You're saying yes?" he asked as she stood before him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Marry me, Owen Grady."

He smiled, his hands pressed against her back and kissed her soundly.


End file.
